


What lies below

by sketzocase



Category: Dark Wolverine (Comics), Wolverine (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Origin Story, Blood and Injury, Canonical Child Abuse, Character Study, Emotional Grooming, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear of Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, No Romance, No Sex, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, Other: See Story Notes, Psychological Torture, Psychological Warfare, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unresolved Emotional Tension, abusive 'guardian', cult mindset, not so graphic violence, permanent mental injury, please read 'before notes', sea people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketzocase/pseuds/sketzocase
Summary: In the eyes of a child, a 'parent' is god. And in complete honesty... most gods are far, far, from benevolent.





	1. Curiosity Killed the Cat (Daken. 10)

**Author's Note:**

> This this fic is more of a psychological kinda deal. Getting into the heads of both abuser and victim- retelling and rehashing stories from both points of view- so Maybe we can end up somewhere odd as ever, but at east know the many calculated steps it took to get there. 
> 
> This does involve canonical abuse- and a good chunk does happen as a child, as it was mentioned heavily in the comics. And knowing the character like we do, of course it's physical/mental/sexual- etc. etc. And while this is a touchy subject indeed- it will be handled tactfully and pretty much offscreen (as it were).  
There does seem to be victim blaming but honestly it will make sense later on. 
> 
> So, violence, abuse, and a master/slave 'relationship', though that description doesn't really accurately cover it. But..- insert shrug-. 
> 
> Non/con is implied a little bit throughout everything, but if it is heavily mentioned (along with any other triggers, really) I will mention in the before notes. 
> 
> I will say that if you're expecting heavy non/con graphically laid out and gone into detail that is inflicted on a child- you will Absolutely NOT find it in this fic. While subjects must and will be touched on, it will be done with tact and not in a way that will really trigger anyone as that is not my intent. I am trying really hard to go about this differently, so y'all hang with me. We'll stumble our way to the finish line. 
> 
> Switching POV's every chapter between Daken and Romulus- which I'll try to kinda give a better indication as to who's narrating at the beginning. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And please enjoy! (responsibly :) )

Adults are so odd.

So utterly, overwhelmingly, and breathtakingly odd.

Sometimes I don’t think even _they_ know what they’re doing.

And honestly... that _scares_ me.

....A lot. 

Master says I need constant stability and discipline to grow into what I should be.

I try to follow his instructions as best as I can- always.

I also try with all my might to please him.

Even though I give it my best effort...sometimes I just don’t think it’s _possible_.

He expects nothing but perfection... and I find that just a little hard to deliver 100% of the time. 

I take each of his numerous instructions to heart- burying them deep within my core to try and understand what he wishes to convey and learn from it.

It's just hard sometimes to exactly understand _what_ he wants. Especially when other adults are involved- as they are frequently in the compound I live in.

Supposedly those adults speak _for_ him- so they convey his orders.

But... there's always some manner of conflict between orders. 

I guess you could say that there is some communication issues within the chain of command. ( I heard a visitor use that term and it's stuck with me. While I speak English fluently at this point- I do love to learn new phrases.)

While I try to obey every command I'm given, I can end up disobeying about three more for everyone one I follow. 

It's a paradox that I cannot manage to understand. And that bothers me. I consider myself to be halfway intelligent. I should understand these things by now.

When all is said and done, I just don’t understand how I can be punished for one set of actions by one adult and then praised for the same actions by another. It’s like they’re being confusing on purpose. Like it’s part of some game.

I often feel that Master is playing a game. A game that he won’t tell me the rules to.

...I think that also may be part of the game as well.

He keeps the rules secret and punishes me when I break them.

So much so that again, I don't know why I'm being punished. 

The sergeants and tutors are no better. One says this, one says that, Master says something different altogether ... I think anyone would have a hard time understanding it- adult or not.

Sometimes I receive ten contradicting orders within five minutes of each other. Which is a lot no matter how you look at it. 

The adults don’t like me- at all. They make it very clear that I am a bother and a nuisance. 

Was I younger, like I was when I came here, that would bother me. As is- I don’t like them very much either. Which is good as our joint disdain keeps our interactions short.

This is _also_ good because they don't have enough time to give too many contradicting orders. 

I truly think that the mishmash and miscommunications of orders are why I have such a hard time getting things done in a quick enough manner to keep Master happy. To get anything done at all, I have to double and triple check what I’m doing. However, once an order is given I’m supposed to remember it down the smallest of details. It will not be repeated no matter how much I beg. That’s to improve my memory- so I'm told.

It... doesn’t work as they think it should. If anything, it just makes me more secretive.

Being secretive here is a little harder than it probably should be. When I was in my... old life, I was allowed to keep many secrets. In my new life- they are almost impossible to maintain. _Especially_ with Master. If he even catches a _whiff_ of a lie- I am punished most severely.

He doesn’t accept excuses as they are a sign of weakness. He says every action, no matter how small, is intentional. Every act of ‘disobedience’ is spitting in his face. Even if it’s something as little as not keeping my eyes lowered or speaking out of turn.

I guess you could say that Master and I play a delicate game.

If he’s happy- I’m happy.  
If he’s angry- I’m scared.  
If I’m scared- he’s angry.

I will be the first to admit that Master is downright frightening at times. His moods can swing unexpectedly at times and his reactions vary from situation to situation- which makes predicting his movements extremely difficult. 

His fouler moods almost _always_ end in blood. To be fair, his less foul moods usually end up in blood too. 

He is very hard to understand. No matter how close I may get to him, I don't think I will ever completely understand. 

With all this in mind, I try my best to keep him happy. The odds aren't good that I'll succeed, but I still maintain a small hope that it will work out positively for me. 

I train hard, I keep up with all the things I’m supposed to, I do well in all of my studies- anything to gain his approval.

Master’s approval has come to mean... _everything_ to me.

...It means he wants me.

For so long in my very short life, I've been surrounded by people who... just didn't want me.

I was an unnecessary weight on them. An emotional drain, as it were.

At least here, with Master, I know where I stand. 

However, here lately... I’ve been.... messing up all of my orders.

Really making a true mess of _everything_ I touch. 

I'm constantly running late for things and being utterly distracted during lessons... my tutors are less than pleased. 

I'm forgetful and distractible. Two things Master HATES. 

Needless to say...he is _anything_ but happy with me. And...our game has turned into a nightmare.

Maybe I’m just not smart enough to understand it all just yet. The 'bigger picture', that is. When I'm older, I'll be able to step back and see what really is and what has to be. 

It's hard for me at times- life has been very different since I arrived at Master’s compound. There have been a lot of rules to adjust to and very little time to adjust to them. 

Different for him as well, I'd like to think.

Out of all of his wards, he chose to move me to the main compound- even though I'd been training less than a year. It’s a true honor.

The things I could learn from him are astounding! 

…… if I wasn’t so bad at it.

I get beatings left and right for failing to do as I'm told. 

The beatings aren't so bad. I heal the damage pretty fast. It's the look of disapproval on Master’s face that cuts the deepest. 

I’m supposed to be better. I’m supposed to be harder. He's done so much for me- the least I could do is do as I'm told. It's not like that's an unusual demand for a child- either. 

When I feel tears well up behind my eyes- I know I’ve failed.

I _hate_ it when I cry. It's my body betraying me in a very personal and noticeable way. 

Which is why I am where I am today. Bare feet hitting the hard-packed dirt of the training yard as I try to get to my lessons without being noticed.

The courtyard with its large trees and stone that surrounds the fighting pit pass by in a blur.

No one is using them today because of the weather. It’s damp and cold and no one really likes to expose themselves to it if they don't have to. 

If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with the stables I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Time is not on my side this morning.  
Which means that any adult I run into will most likely not be either. 

I slide through the screen doors of one of the many entrances to the compound and hit the wooden step that leads into the room, tripping over my own feet and landing on my face.

The wooden entrance hall is muddy because of my feet- but other than that polished to an unearthly shine. I’m collecting my bearings when I catch a scent that tells me to stay down.

“How graceful,” Master says from over my head, his voice clearly displeased. Not angry- per se. But not happy, either.

I can only see his large boots from my position- gray, sturdy, and- though one couldn't tell by looking at them- painful. 

Most of his fighting is done with hands, arms, and claws. Slashes and punches- stabbing.   
Things that are quick, efficient, and deadly. Men of his size don't usually bother much with kicks. Though- I know from our more personal of meetings that Master's legs are as equally powerful as his arms.   
He just doesn't like kicking. 

Most people are wary of his hands and claws- which they should be. They don't really focus on legs or feet. 

However, if you're my size, a sturdy kick from Master is enough to cause a lot of pain and almost instant confusion.   
Somehow, I never see it coming. 

Master looms over me- seeming to be more contemplative than angry. Not that his mood can't swing to angry at any given moment. 

His boot is near my hand- easily within reach of a good and painful stomp. I know better than to move anything at this point. I keep my head down and wait for instruction.   
This is one of the first lessons I learned. And it's the one that I utilize in every single interaction we have. 

Overhead his vitals stay steady. I can't get a good read of him- but then again, no one really can. 

A long moment stretches between us.   
Perhaps... he's forgotten what he intended to say? 

“Get up.” He says with an annoyed huff after the pause gets more awkward than it probably should. 

I hesitate for just a moment.

I suspect he's mad at me- but, then again, he always seems to be mad at me. It's best to keep in mind that his moods are unpredictable and that he's prone to violence more often than not. 

“Boy- get up.” He growls when I keep groveling. "On your feet. Now." 

I slowly stand to my feet, still keeping my eyes on the floor, but daring to look up quickly before looking back down- hoping he didn't see it. 

The rest of his outfit seems to match his ordinary life around the compound vibe. Which is odd as I do not remember seeing him for the last few days. 

It's not unusual for him to take off whenever he so desires. He is allowed to do what he wants whenever he wants. He owes no one an explanation nor an apology. Ever. 

I think that's not only because he owns this compound and all within it but also because of his size, skill, and power. 

Master is the size of someone who has been left to continuously grow far past when a normal human would have stopped. Not that he's the size of a storybook giant- no. But he is easily the largest man I have ever seen. Ever. 

When he's moving about the compound he rarely wears anything even remotely resembling a shirt. 

He's powerful and revels in it. In his words, in his actions, in his dress- it is all done to his very high expectations.   
Expectations that I think he has even for himself. I would hate to see what would happen should he let them slip. I can't imagine Master as anything other than he is.   
All-knowing.   
All-powerful.   
The end of all I knew as well as the start of all that I will know

He is a mass of muscles. And while being as big as he is I sincerely doubt he has any actual body fat to speak of.   
Besides the fact that he is very disciplined with his own physical training- a routine of which is never discussed and no one ever sees him perform- I hardly ever even see him eat. And when he does- it's mostly protein. 

His hair is white- save the streaks that frame his face. I severely doubt that it's a sign of aging, however. As he shows literally zero other traits that one would associate with age. It's almost a length that would on someone else look feminine. 

He, however, is anything but. 

In fact, to be completely honest, he's not very conventionally attractive. I think it's his power that draws people to him. It holds them captive in their sheer awe of its presence.   
  
He is more of an unyielding force than a man at times. 

“You’re late.” He says, glancing at a clock over my head. “Very late. What were you doing?”

“Yes, Master I was-”

“Are you about to give me an excuse?” He asks with a slight smirk. “You know how I loathe excuses.” 

I shake my head. "No Master." 

He glances me over. “Good. Now where were you?”

His face is an odd mix of disdain and timelessness.

Dark, black eyes with yellow irises- eyes which see EVERYTHING. 

And the only expressions he ever seems to emote are hatred, malice, and an indescribable look of both amusement and anger. As if we're all so beneath him that even in moments of rage we amuse him. 

I can probably count on one hand the times he's ever been completely 100% kind to me- or anyone for that matter. 

Knowing what little I do, I can already piece together that this confrontation will not end in my favor. 

I swallow loudly, trying to gather my wits about me. “In the stables.”

“Why?” He asks- crossing his arms as his face settles into a distinct look of displeasure. 

It's a look I hate. 

And I know I'll hate even more when I tell him where I've been. 

I inhale deeply- trying to figure out what to say.   
  
"If you lie to me boy I will throw you through the wall." He growls- deep in his throat. Menacing and real. 

“Moroca is sick,” I say weakly. I know how it sounds. Especially for him. 

Moroca is a rabbit.   
In the stables. I found him and I named him. 

"And Moroca is.... whom exactly?" He asks. 

"The rabbit," I say quietly.   
  
"The rabbit." He repeats.   
  
I nod. 

"And you are late to perform your given duties because you were... entertaining.. the rabbit." he does not make this a question. 

I nod again. "Yes, Master. He is sick. I thought I could.. help him. If he's well he can make more rabbits and I heard someone say we needed more animals for the winter-"

"Silence," he says- raising his hand. "I don't care what you heard. I don't care what you think. You were given a direct order." His voice is low, dripping with anger and disapproval. "Do you remember what that order was, Daken?" 

I look down at my feet. "Not to be late for lessons." 

"Yes. Very good," he says. "And what else have I told you about being in the stables?" 

"..Not to." I say. 

"Good," he repeats- though I know it is far from praise. "Now do you recall what I have told you time and time _again_ about naming the livestock?” 

“I know but-”  
  
"There is no but." He growls. 

"If we keep the rabbits healthy we can have more rabbits!" I say quickly.   
  
"Yes, Daken. I am aware of how breeding works." He snarls. "That has little to do with the fact that you were where I have told you NOT to be." 

"I just wanted to help," I say- weakly. 

“Rabbits are for eating.” He says, voice as cold as a million dark winter nights. "They are not pets. You do not care for them. We have people for that. If you are so easily bored that you have to seek out animal for companionship then perhaps you are not working _hard_ enough." 

“This rabbit is good luck,” I say quickly- regretting it as soon as it leaves my mouth.  
  
I can see that my tone does not sit well with him.   
  
"Good luck." He repeats- voice deadly quiet.   
  
"Yes." I say. "he's good luck." 

"A rabbit. A rabbit who you have admitted that you have to care for... and it is good luck." His tone is cold- icy. 

"Yes." I repeat. "But he's going to get better and make more rabbits-"   
  
"QUIET." He snarls. "I do not wish to hear you idiotically rehash how livestock breeding is done. Or why it is done. Do you think I do not understand these sorts of things? Hmm? Do you think I am stupid enough to have been alive this long if I did not know how to keep a reliable food source?" 

"No Master." I say, head down. 

"You are standing in complete defiance of what you have been told time and time again." He sneers. "IF you are unable to follow the most simple of instructions, why should I even entertain the thought of training you? If you're not going to learn- why should I waste the time? Why not throw you out into the elements and leave you to your own foolish devices?" 

"I'm sorry master," I say, tone quiet but voice shakier than I would like for it to be. "I will be better." 

"Better? And the promise of you being 'better' is one of enough bearing to encourage me to keep you?" 

"I will try-"   
  
"You will _try_? Is that all??? I'm supposed to believe an idiot who thinks a rabbit- an ill rabbit- is lucky? One who can't seem to do something as simple as keep time? If you cannot prove your worth with more than stupid 'promises' of what you will 'try' to accomplish then you are not worth the time and energy spent into making you into something of value!!" The last is yelled.   
  
It makes me flinch, eyes closing.   
I have to force myself to resist the urge to cover my ears with my hands.

“Why must you still hold on to these childish beliefs? They make you sound like an idiot. A childish idiot." He pauses. "Do I waste time on idiots, Daken?" 

"No." I say quietly- starting to feel myself shake. 

"Stay still, boy." He snarls. 

"Yes Master." I try to lock my knees- keeping myself steady.   
It works somewhat- at least enough to keep my quivering from immediate detection.

"So you believe this rabbit to be lucky enough to stand against your orders, hmm?" 

Not so much anymore. 

"Do you know why we hold the belief in the things we do, Daken?" He asks dryly. 

"Because-"   
  
"Because?" 

  
"We can..."   
  
"Yes?" 

"....."   
  
"Because we can prove it." He snarls. "Now have you any physical, tactile, tried and tested proof of this belief being based in fact?"   
  
I swallow a lump in my throat. "Not exactly-"   
  
"If you cannot prove that the rabbit is lucky- then you cannot call it lucky. Because basing what you consider a 'logical' thought on something that cannot be proved makes you a weak-minded fool."   
  
I'll try to prove myself logical by explaining my belief in a different way.   
That way I will prove that I'm not stupid and that I had some level of thought put into this belief.   
  
"In my village-"   
  
"Your village was full of idiots and weaklings." He cuts me off. "The rabbit is not lucky. There is no such thing as 'luck'. And if anything the wretched thing will be dead by morning. Stay out of the stables.”

I find myself flinching. 

I don’t want Moroca to die. And I don’t want to eat/wear him. He’s a good rabbit. None of the other rabbits like him. He needs special attention.

"If I catch you in the stables again, you will be in unfathomable pain. Do you understand?" 

I nod- far more upset than I want him to see me. 

Something changes- ever so subtle, I can't track exactly what, but he seems somewhat more approachable now.“I suppose one will have to give some leeway to your childish nature.” Master sighs, tone changed as if my stupidity is just something he has come to expect. “As idiotic as it may be.. you are young yet. The ways of the world are not completely clear to you.”

I lower my head- hopes dashed for showing him any kind of thought behind my actions.  
Now he thinks me stupid.

"You have much to learn." He says. "And you cannot allow yourself to be distracted by stupid things. If you're going to be worthy of serving me, you need to do so with your whole mind. You cannot give the attention I desire if you are focused on things of unimportance." 

I feel somewhat hopeful now. He still wants me.   
After all my stupidity- he still wants me. 

Master brushes my shoulder off with one of his large hands. “Let me look at you.”

I stand straight and still.

My clothes are not the cleanest as I've been running around in the stables- I can feel his eyes boring holes into me.   
He expects me to stay decently clean. 

"You're filthy." He says, voice harsh and disapproving. 

I study my outfit- gray shirt and with a darker yet similar shade of cloth shorts. My legs and feet are muddy and there is some residual hay from the stables stuck in my collar and I suspect in my hair as well. 

The outfit is not what I used to wear in my village and it's not anything close to traditional Japanese dress in any way shape or form.   
Then again, Master drives the point home that I have no country of origin. I have no nationality. I serve him. I go where he goes. My home is what he says it is. 

And here, we dress as whatever he decides we should. 

I quickly remove the hay from my shirt and run a hand through my hair- trying to remove it unnoticeably. 

"Stop fidgeting." He growls. 

His eyes roam over me- I feel embarrassed by the scrutiny he's placed me under.

I can't decide if he views me as an investment at the moment or something of... other use.   
Either way- my desire to please him will be shown as much as I can possibly show it. 

“You're too skinny." He says. "No muscle to tone to speak of- no height on you. Thin as a twig. Hardly useful for anything." He glances me up and down. "Weak. Will you ever gain any meat on your bones? I suppose you're still of use for missions that require a childlike appearance...” he murmurs. "But to be in the same class with any of your peers... well..." He chuckles some- as if my body's failure to meet his demands is something humorous to him. 

I know I’m not supposed to respond to anything, but it is hard not to defend myself. 

"You've still got an...innocent air about you." He says. "It's good for making people drop their guard. Good for manipulation." He hums to himself. "Good for fulfilling wants of older men. You've always been a pretty boy- people like pretty boys." 

I don't want to be 'pretty'...and I don't want to look childish.   
  
"I've grown," I whisper.   
  
He laughs a little loudly. "Hardly. Turn around.”

I do so dutifully.

He nudges the back of my right knee with his boot- almost making it buckle. “Your legs need work.”

“Yes, Master I will-”

“But they’re strong." He says, cutting me off as if I hadn't spoken. Which honestly, I shouldn't have spoken anyway. I am lucky he did not take offense. "You’re a runner. Runners have… unique abilities amid battle. Good for pursuits.” he continues. "I'd imagine if we wanted to start bulking you up, we'd have to change your diet entirely." He hums to himself again. "But, you are not a complete waste of space as I thought you to be when you spoke of your little 'pet' earlier. If you'd learn to read a fucking clock once and a while, I'd imagine you may just be worth keeping." 

He often talks about whether or not he wants to keep me. 

When he alludes to my worth not being something worth his time- I feel as if the world has fallen in on me. 

Today? I am not a complete waste of space. I proudly soak up what little praise can be gained from that statement.

I even resist correcting him my now knowing how to read a clock. Which I've actually gotten good at. 

He turns me back around- a large hand on my shoulder, spinning me on my heel. 

"You've wasted a good part of your morning." He says. "It's now noon. I suppose should I want your undivided obedience I should place a clock in every room you may happen to roam through." 

I can see the mood drying on my feet and legs as I study the floor underneath me.   
  
"No use in wasting more time." He says- sounding as if all the matters we've 'discussed' so far in our conversation no longer have any bearing whatsoever. "I have an order for you." 

I nod. "I will obey." 

"Do not interrupt me." He says coldly. 

I nod quickly. 

“Good boy. Now, your morning tutor has suffered a... loss in the family." He says this somewhat smugly. With just the smallest infliction to his tone, I know that this 'loss' is not a surprise to him. "As such, your lessons are canceled for today. Maybe the week, knowing the weakness of that man." He checks the clock over my head again. "I have something else in mind.” He says, not looking at me. 

I wait in silence for him to continue. 

“Master?”I prod when he says nothing. 

“Observation.” He says, turning his eyes back to me. “Watch the others and learn.”

“Learn what?” I ask, curiously. 

He glares at me for the tone of familiarity I used. "Whatever I tell you to." He snarls. 

I lower my eyes- trying to show him the proper respect. 

He observes and then continues with, “You will observe how to fight properly.”

I start to respond- but then remember to be submissive and quiet. 

“You’re weak and easily overpowered. You have no self-control when fighting and fling yourself headfirst like an idiot. You're of no use to anyone if you're taken out in the first five minutes of battle because you acted out of brashness and stupidity." 

I don't believe that at all.   
I think I'm far more talented than that. 

But... I cannot dispute this with him.   
I can't dispute anything with him. 

"I am giving you a chance to improve the issue yourself before I am forced to take matters into my own hands." He says, cooly. 

I nod. 

"Train harder or I’ll have to find another heir. It is far more simply done than you imagine. If you want to keep your spot- you must earn it.” He waits for my reaction- which is a trick, I know better than to react. "To the arena. Go.” he dismisses me harshly. 

I bow to him and head off down the long dark hallway to the training room. Though there are many people in this compound, there is only one arena and we all must share. 

....Though 'share' is a loose term.

Master decides who can use it. If he decides that one set of people are done then they are done. If he decides someone must train- they train. Usually until he tells them to stop- which can easily take hours upon hours at times. 

More than once I have passed out purely from muscle exhaustion alone.   
...Those instances never end well for me. 

The doorway to the arena is tall- almost going all the way to the ceiling. Most of the doorways are larger than normal though, so it's not really out of place. I think it's an easy solution to Master being so large. I'd like to imagine if he were to smack his head on a doorframe someone would be in a LOT of trouble. 

There are no doors to the arena and you can see and hear whoever is fighting as soon as you enter the doorway. 

The grunts and heavy pants are often a relaxing sound to hear. I spend a lot of time here. There is a sense of 'home' that is hard to describe. 

Today, two of Master's sergeants are engaging in some sort of knife fight.

Though I have my own natural weapons- I do like to see how other people compensate for not being blessed with claws as I am. 

These men are not very high in Master's chain of command as usually the higherup positions are mutants who have their weapons built-in.   
Claws- like me. 

“Oh look,” The tall dark man stands from his crouched position to his full height- which is impressive. “The little one is here. Come to watch the masters then, little boy? Or come to gawk at the weapons?” He stands dressed in something that resembles a black leather skirt- I'm told it's called a loincloth and know from experience that he does not like it compared to a skirt. 

He's one of the only actual 'sergeants' or 'generals' who refers to me as 'young' or 'little one'.   
Master has told him to stop many times -but I think it slips out. 

The toned muscles on the dark man's back are covered with scars- deep ones. Jagged. He's survived many, many battles. He's strong. He's sturdy.   
And as far as I know, he is not a mutant. Therefore his strength is given to him by his pure effort- not gifted by some genetic blessing. 

“Master wants me to watch you fight,” I say, taking a seat on the wooden floor by the edge of the arena. 

The man is from a place I've never heard of. A small country that Master says probably won't exist a decade from now. Where the sun is hotter than anything I've ever felt, the air is dryer, and the people are a lot less... civilized. Cultured- yes. Sophisticated I suppose -judging solely by the way he speaks. But his people do not flinch when there is violence to be done. He says they've been waging wars for centuries but never says over what- or who exactly started them.  
  
He tells me that he’s a top warrior of his people- adorned with praise and riches whenever he should return home. Women- wine-luxuries I couldn't even imagine. 

I admit that I admire him more than other adults based solely on the number of interesting stories he has. While yes- I am a warrior and I train hard to weed myself of my childish ways- I still like to hear stories from time to time.   
This man tells them and I imagine myself in his shoes- stalking through a desert. Or a jungle. Hearing the howls of animals and feeling the eyes of my enemies on me as they hide within the dark. 

The person he is fighting with is of little consequence. I know for a fact that the man is on his last legs. Master's already found a replacement.   
This means that the man is not long for this world. 

A slated execution or a well-timed 'accident' are all that await him. And he knows it. 

To the side of the room, unnoticed by me at first, is one of the tallest women I've ever seen. She appears to be judging the men's battle- seemingly unphased by my sudden appearance. 

The man facing off against the larger warrior falls to his knees- weak, head bowed. 

He is weak because he is sick. Cancer of the liver- I believe. He says it was because when he was young, he tried to drink himself to death.   
I'm sure looking at him now that he wishes he were successful. 

The woman in the arena is also well known to me. She’s Master’s sister. His only flesh and blood.

Though she is far from warm towards him. ... or really anyone involved with him.   
Myself included.   
  
Remus. Similar to her brother... but completely opposite. 

She regards me with a cool glance. “This arena is no place for children.” She says- Her tone frigid in a completely different way than Master's gets. 

She stands to her feet, going to the dirt floor of the arena- she holds herself more gracefully than any person I've ever met. Master included.   
Remus is proud. Tall.   
She may not have Master's empire- but she is not weak... no matter what Master says. 

I think she'd rather have hot irons dug under her nails rather than share a space with me. 

Remus seems to have many different ideas on children from Master.   
  
Master says her 'kindness' will be her undoing. 

I do not think of Remus as kind. Well.. not to me, at any rate. Though she often does speak out against me being in training spaces while she is there. 

I think perhaps she doesn't want to look at me. Maybe I'm not as 'pretty' as Master seems to think I am. 

“Go amuse yourself elsewhere.”She says- turning her back to me and offering the man on the floor a hand, pulling him to his feet.

I feel my frustration mounting. 

If she sends me I will be directly disobeying Master. 

But, I am also commanded to follow and all orders given to me by those of higher rank in the compound.   
And in every conceivable way, Remus is one step below Master. Which means her orders, while not as important, are pretty close. 

“Master said-”

“And I’m telling you to go elsewhere.” She growls, cutting me off with a cold over the shoulder glance. 

She’s tall- taller than any woman I’ve ever seen. Her long red hair is piled on top of her head and she wears an outfit that leaves little to the imagination- shorts that ride up far too much for comfort and a low cut 'top' that covers next to nothing. She keeps with the overall 'gray' colored outfits that Master does.

Remus is almost always in outfits that bare as much skin as possible. While I do not think Master cares for modesty, I think Remus pushes the line as far as she possibly can.

Then again.. I guess when you’re an adult and you’ve worked hard for your physique it’s okay to show it off.

“Go practice tracking or some stupid thing.”She says dismissively. "You're distracting the fighters." 

“What do I track?” I ask, curiously. 

If my mission is disrupted by a new mission- that is bad. But..if the mission was to learn something and I'm given something else to learn... it can't be all bad. 

She frowns before going to the side of the room and retrieving something out of a small cloth bag. A shirt- it seems- that has some greasy handprints on the chest. “Someone touched my things.” She says, tossing the shirt at me. “Get a scent and hunt them down. Make them pay.”

I focus on the cloth in my hands. It’s light blue and satiny- soft under my fingers. It seems more like a nighttime top than something she would wear just out and about. You can tell because it actually covers skin.

I inhale deeply, but all I smell is her scent- her perfume, her hair products, her soap... I focus harder. Nothing. I close my eyes and focus- opening them in excitement when I finally get a 'foreign' scent. “Smells like…” I sniff again. “Like..”

“I don’t care what it smells like.” She growls. “I care who it smells like. Go.”

I'm not sure if Remus can track.   
Actually- I'm honestly not sure of any of Remus's abilities. 

I'm told to never question adults and she's never shown any out of the ordinary skills- other than fighting, that is. She's quite talented at that. 

I'm slightly curious as to if she has powers at all. Or if she's just siphoned power and respect off of Master. 

"Why are you standing there?" She snaps. "Go!" 

I nod, bowing to her and heading off down the hall- scenting the air as I go.

Most of the adults in the compound ignore me. Even with me sniffing them.

I make it to the backyard before catching the slightest hint of what I’m tracking. Enthused by solving the mystery I track the scent to the guest corridors. Going through room and room until it’s strong and-

“Watch it!” A woman snarls, pushing me away from her with a large wooden laundry basket.

I was so busy scenting the air I forgot to look where I was going.

The room I’ve stumbled into has long clothing lines with drying clothes and a collection of large wooden tubs for washing laundry coupled was a large drying board.

“What do you think you’re doing??” The woman is pale, small, and loud.

She's a maid/housekeeper and she's doing the laundry. This one I do not recognize as one of Masters- he and Remus have different 'hired hands' who share the same space.   
  
It gets confusing as to which one belongs to who- but in the case of this one, I am sure. 

She wears a more western idea of a 'maid's uniform'- black and long with a white apron. 

“I was tracking,” I say defensively- while I'm ordered to show adults respect- that doesn't always extend to the help. Master views them very poorly and I can sometimes get away with being rude or 'bratty'. Unfortunately, it's given me somewhat of a reputation. “The scent led me here.”

“Well, congratulations.” The woman says, putting her hands on her hips. “You found the laundry room. Not like you haven't seen it every day for the past year or so.”

Ugh. Damn it! I wasn’t tracking a human scent at all!

They changed laundry soaps. That’s why the scent was off.

“Don’t you have something better to do with your time?” the woman has gray hair, tied back in a low ponytail. 

I do not owe her an explanation but I find that it may help me get out of this room faster. “Master said to watch Remus train and Remus told me to track and-”

“And now I’m telling you to get the fuck out of here. I have enough work to do without little brats running around.”

“Remus has a dirty shirt. She told me to find the soiled it.” I try to stand my ground against the small woman.

“I’ll tell you who soiled it- Remus.” The woman huffs, dumping more clothes into her large bucket. “And her male company. The man came from the sea. He was damp and it ruined her clothing. Serves her right. Should teach her about the kind of company she keeps.”

That… interests me. “He came from the sea?” I ask, forgetting to be worried, cautious, or respectful. “As in the is a sailor or… something else?”

I've seen pictures in books of people who lived under the ocean.   
I assumed it was a fairytale of some sort. 

The woman glares at me- her brown eyes small and beady. “Get out of here.” She says. “What part of “I’m too busy for brats” do you not understand?”

The man who ruined the top was from the sea. Logically I should go to the docks to see if I can find him.

“I’m sorry.” I bow to her- which hopefully makes up for my rudeness during the conversation. 

“Don’t bow.” She sighs. “I’m not your Master or your tutors. Just get out of here. Mistress needs her laundry done to entertain tonight.”

“More men from the sea?” I ask.

She just shakes her head. “It’s none of your business, you’ll be in bed.”

“But I want to see the sea people.”

My enthusiasm is going to get me into trouble again. I need to better manage it.

“You don’t want to see the sea people. Lest they think you’d make a cute pet and drag you back down with them. Can you breathe underwater, brat?”

I shake my head.

“Then stay away.” She says shortly. “Now go. Stop pestering me.”

I exit the laundry room and try to formulate my next plan.

I don’t like the idea of being dragged into the ocean… but the sea people are something I’d like to see. Maybe I can find out more information from Remus’s aide. She knows everything and we have a very good relationship. Even if she teases me time and time again. 

I start tracking again- knowing her scent by heart. Of course, I know where her bedroom is, but on this side of the compound, I'm not exactly welcome. I try to cut down the time I spend there by making sure I have a very precise destination in mind- which the tracking is very useful for.

I find her in her bedroom, sitting on her cot meditating.

Her room is small- but bigger than mine by far. 

Whereas I have a matt on the floor- she has a small raised cot. Though it's not a bed like Westerners have, it does manage to look quite comfortable.   
  
Under her are fluffy blankets- which she's allowed to have by her Mistress. 

Master only allows me to sleep with a sheet- despite how cold/uncomfortable I am.   
He believes that if I'm tired enough- I will sleep.   
Comforts are a thing to be earned- I am by no means entitled to them. 

“Sasha, does Remus see sea people?” I ask.

Sasha is not trained like me. At all.   
She fights- she's adept in her powers- but I never hear her scream. Or cry.   
Remus doesn't do things to make her upset or put her in any pain. 

She loves her Mistress and does what she can to please her- just like I love my Master. 

The only difference is that her Mistress openly loves her back. Not as a lover or a person who seeks to use her- but as a guardian. Someone who's happy to see her and helps guide her to becoming the best version of herself. 

I do not know how Remus can take such a different approach- but I pray the day never comes where I have to fight Sasha.   
  
I am honestly not sure if I could win. 

The girl cracks open one violet eye. “What?” Her eyes are the most entrancing color I have ever seen.   
Ever. 

Sasha is small and has red hair- like her mistress. I've seen her have dark roots so I am aware that the color is artificial. She desires to be like her mistress and her mistress not only allows it but provides the materials for her to do so.

Her powers have to do with some sort of electricity and foresight. Unlike master, Remus collects her wards from every power set. Boys and girls alike. She doesn't seem to have a set 'type' of people she trains. 

I stay at Sasha's door post- respectfully not entering. She’ll blast me into a wall if I come in without her permission

She has decorations in her room.   
Drawings and paintings on the wall. 

Personal belongings- things like that. 

My room is bare. It's as if no one lives there at all. 

I'm not allowed to have random 'things'. 

I have clothing, I have a matt, and I have a sheet. That is all I am allowed to have. 

My tutors keep all notebooks and pens and pencils. Those are not mine, I just borrow them. And they are very clear to point that out. 

“The men. The ones that ruined her top. They were from the sea. Are they sea people?” I clarify. 

“Her top is ruined?” Sasha sighs. “We’ll have to find another. I warned her against wearing satin.”

She gets to have that kind of conversation with Remus.   
I look forward to a day when I can have conversations like that with Master. Once I've proven myself. 

“Did a sea person do it?” I press. 

“Most likely.”She says easily. 

“So she does see sea people?” I ask, voice a little more excited than it should be. 

She closes her eyes again. “Yep.”

“And you’ve seen them?”

“Yep.”

“Do they have gills like a fish or a head like a human?”

“What do you care?” She asks suspiciously. “Your master doesn’t deal with them- they’re literally of no consequence to you.”

“I want to meet them,” I say defensively. Sasha is six years older than me. I’m ten and she’s pushing sixteen- almost seventeen. Almost an adult but not quite. I don’t have to treat Sasha with any respect she doesn’t show me.

“And have them take you into the ocean with them?” She says. “To live forever and ever under the sea and never see the light of day again. Slowly being eaten by fish and eels and dragons-”

“Sasha stop!” I demand, embarrassed that my voice comes out in a squeak. 

“Scaredy-cat.” She laughs.

“I am not scared,” I growl- trying to deepen my voice to make up for it's earlier betrayal. “I just don’t want to be eaten, is all.”

“Then go down to the docks tonight with me.” She says. “I have to go collect them.”

I turn it over in my mind. The consequences. The reward. The answers I die to know.

“I will come with you.” I agree.

“Are you sure?” She asks teasingly.

“Yes.”

“You’re not scared that the fish-men will eat you alive?”

I hate it when she tries to scare me like a child.

…. I hate it, even more, when it works.

“Stop it!” I growl. “Fish men don’t eat flesh.”

“Says the boy who’s never met a fish-man.”

My courage falters for a second, but I strengthen my resolve. “They don’t eat you- so they won’t eat me.".

“They don’t eat me because I’m old. My meat is tough. A skinny little snack like you? Add some spices maybe some rice or potatoes- roast you alive- they’d have a-”

“Stop it!” I snarl. “They’re not going to eat me!”

Sasha shrugs. “If you’re so certain, I leave at dusk. I will not wait for you.”

“I understand,” I say with a nod.

“Good.” She stands to her feet and starts to close the door in my face. “And Daken?” 

“Yes?”

“Disobeying your master’s orders- even if they were derailed by The mistress, is not a wise idea.”

Her eyes hold a sort of glow to them. She’s ‘seeing’ something I am not.

“He’s angry?” I wince.

“Very. I’d hurry to him.”

I nod. “Thanks, Sasha.”

“Anytime, scaredy-cat.”

I grimace at the nickname but quickly follow my Master’s scent back to the training arena.

He doesn’t turn to look at me- but he knows I'm here. “So you decided to ignore my orders yet again- hmm?”

“Remus sent me-”

He turns around and quickly grabs me by my throat- lifting me from my feet. “I don’t care what Remus told you to do, you are mine and you will do as I say.” He lets me go- dropping me to the floor. “Get in the pit.” He snarls.

Our ‘arena’ is a rectangular pad of hard-packed dirt with wooden seats in rows of ten descending from the upper levels.

“Get in the pit.” He repeats coldly.

I go down the stairs, trying to ignore the others snickering as I pass.

When I’m standing in the middle I’ve noticed that Master has joined me. Does he intend to be my opponent? That’s not fair in the slightest!

“The last man standing wins,” he announces. “The first blow is yours.”

I extend my claws and dive from his ankles- which I assume to be his weakest spot. He catches me mid-dive and throws me across the arena.

Argh. New tactic.

He’s bigger than me. He’s stronger than me. He’s fast-

No, wait! I’m smaller- so I’m faster because there’s less of me to move.

I hop back up to my feet and rush him again, sliding on the ground underneath him and slashing the inside of his calves before jumping to my feet and getting as much distance as possible. By the time he turns around, his wounds have already healed.

“That’s not fighting.” He growls. “That’s playing. Fight as I've taught you.”

I nod, going for a direct blow and taking five claws to the face for it. I roll to the ground, covering my face and trying to keep the blood out of my eyes.

He wastes no time in kicking me in the gut, rolling me over with his foot and putting a claw to my throat. The foot on my stomach presses down harshly. It’s more pressure than my frame can handle. “Next time I tell you to do something,” He hisses. “You do it. You’re not smart enough, strong enough, or capable enough to be running around making your own decisions.”

He raises his hand and I flinch for impact.

It doesn’t come.

“Get off the floor.” His claws are at a more friendly angle, meaning he's not likely to stab me at this moment.

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet.

“Follow my orders.” He says. “And only my orders. Remus is a stupid woman who knows nothing about raising successors. I know you think some of my orders may be cruel- but they are for the best.”

I nod.

“Good boy. Go clean yourself up.” He turns to his sister. “A word?”

She inhales deeply, watching me with some untold emotion on her face. “But of course.”

They’re always so formal with each other.

I can’t imagine them ever being children together. Growing up. Playing. Did Master ever once in his life play?

I leave the arena and go to the baths, going about running hot water. They usually only bathe me in cold- but no adult seems to be around at the moment soo….

I sink into the wooden tub, feeling my muscles relax as my wounds heal. This tub is one of the ones most frequently used. I'm lucky to have the room to myself at this time of day. 

His words stick out in my mind- as they always do.

I’m more than capable of handling myself. And I can prove it to him. Next mission I’ll perform with the perfectionism that he seems to crave.

Next mission. After the sea people-that is.

I want to see them. It’s a mystery burning inside of me. The idea of people coming from somewhere so ... deep and dark and mysterious... I simply cannot live with myself if I don't try to see them.   
  
Maybe even talk to them? 

How would a sea person talk? Can they even make sound under the ocean? 

And speaking of that- where do they live in the sea?   
  
Down in the deepest darkest parts... or... in the shallower places near the shore? 

A smaller part of me is curious to know what they eat.... and if I am in some way considered something they would like to try. 

On that note- can you eat a sea person? 

How much of a 'person' are they? 

Furthermore, why would they want to come to our compound? 

We are close to the sea- true. But... why? 

To see Remus?   
  
What's so good about Remus that would make them leave the ocean? 

I don't think anyone should come that far just to see her.   
  
She's so... mean.   
And cold. 

Though, not as much as Master.   
Perhaps it's just... how they were raised?

They're always so distant from each other.  
I'd like to think if I had a sibling- especially a twin- I would be at least somewhat kinder.  
  
Then again... the last time I was offered with a sibling...  
  
The baby.

She was going to get rid of me.  
I had to- I had to do something.

I didn't even want to kill him.  
Not really.  
  
I mean- I planned to... but when I held him...

I thought maybe if I gave him a new home, he could live happily and I could stay with my parents.

I was wrong.

I couldn't let them go looking for him- so I cruelly told my 'mother' that I'd just killed him. To make myself seem stronger. More worthy. 

It did not go as well as I had planned- obviously.   
But, the path I took led me to here.

'Here' may not be much now... but eventually, I'm told I will grow into liking it. 

I'm not sure how... but I look forward to that day. 

As is, I have to do what I can to make my Master pleased.   
Which vexes me. 

OH! I know- maybe if I can solve the mystery of which of the sea people ruined Remus’s top I’ll impress both her and Master.

I will not only prove how brave I am but ALSO that I can follow multiple directions at one time! 

I’m going to need Master's permission to leave the compound, though. So I doubt it will be much of a surprise. 

However, if I do it successfully he will have to be proud of me. He will- I know he will. 

I’ll start working on my argument now- if I make a strong enough case for it, he’s bound to allow me to go.

Just based on my being intelligent and offering good argument points as to why I should go. That means I’m utilizing my lessons. Which means he’s not wasting money on my tutors.

The plan is foolproof! One of my better ones, to say for sure. 

Now to find a way to implement it. 


	2. Still as a statue and three times as dull (Romulus. Too old.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here are the triggers for the following chap (and these are going to be more trigger heavy as they are from an actual abuser/manipulator.)  
*if I missed one, please let me know- I will add it and profusely apologize. I do not want anyone getting hurt over a fic.* 
> 
> So, here we go.  
-implied referenced child abuse (sexual, physical, emotional, mental)  
-Derogatory terms for Women- also violent thoughts towards women  
-Tense sibling relationship.  
-Past violence  
-Manipulation of several people- including children and women.  
-Homicidal thoughts/notions/ideals.  
-Controlling behaviors/thought patterns  
-Egotistical behaviors.  
-Sociopathic behaviors  
-violence and calls for violence.  
-lack of empathy for all things.  
-desire for causing bodily and mental harm for other beings- including followers, siblings, and children. 
> 
> Annnnnd I think that's it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
I actually really like getting to go into Romulus's head like all the way in this fic.  
It's dark- and don't get me wrong- It can get dark.  
But I like to mix up as many characters as I've ever read to make him tick and after SOOO many years- I think I finally got the right combinations! 
> 
> If you'd be so kind, leave a kudos or a comment or what have you.  
I've done so much research and I really want to talk about where I'm taking this fic! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!  
enjoy! (responsibly. :) )

“If you’d give the boy a little leeway-” The woman goes on and on. This is a pointless conversation and not at all what I intended to discuss.

How much time over the years has been wasted on her useless clucking?

I find it very easy to tune her out after all this time.

Her stupidity is a shining light on exactly what happens when someone of importance lets themselves be swayed by something as pointless as ‘morality’. Which is no doubt what she intends to do with this little ‘chat’.

“Hmm. And your charges always turn out so well with the leeway your grant them.” I say smugly, not caring for her response. My sister is oh so easily riled. Not quick to anger exactly- but… something along those lines. “How many have run off?”

Remus stands unmoving- unflinching. The fact that she would dare behave as if she had any right to disrespect me in my compound is…. Laughable. Angering- yes. But laughable as well... “I do not hold my charges captive.” She growls. “They are free to come and go as they please.”

Hmm. Weakness in its finest form.  
Compassion- care.  
The idea that someone I share actual DNA with would be so easily fooled by these childish manmade principles makes bile rise in the back of my throat.

We stand in the great hall, fires burning low in a vertical stripe in the center of the room. I ought to push her onto the coals. It’s quite tempting. I’ve got a good five inches on her. Seeing her in flames would amuse me. Were she not of use- I’d throw her out in the cold.

She remains not only because I could use her- but because left on her own, she might become dangerous. I do not labor under the pretense that her ‘morals’ would stop her from trying to end me. As it has been for the last century- our interactions are perfectly choreographed. In a sense- I do believe she’s got it in her head that she understands what all of this means.

My sister is blind to the realities of the situation.

“Captives do not make good followers.” She says when I remain silent. “Fear is not the only motivation one should use.”

“And because of beliefs like that- you’ll never get anything done. No one fears you. Fear is the cornerstone of a good warrior. Without it- you have nothing.”

“I earn their trust through kindness and compassion,” Remus says. “As should-”

“What a foolish notion said by a foolish woman.” I sneer. “We’re making warriors. Not maidens.”

“My maidens make the best warriors.” Remus taunts. “See for yourself. Put Sasha in the ring against any ‘warrior’ of your choosing. See how she fights- not out of fear of what I will do to her if she should fail- but out of compassion when she fights under my name.”

Interesting.

I’ve no real need for another useless child. Though, I do like to take Remus’s things. Sasha is a strong young woman- there is truth in that statement. However, if given the right pressure- I’ve no doubt the girl would shatter.

If anyone should have that privilege- I think it should be I. As my dim-witted twin cannot manage the strength to do so.

I sit in one of the large backed chairs, tenting my fingers in front of me. “I’d like to put more on that wager.”

“Wager?” Remus crosses her arms. “There is no wager.”

I grant her a bemused look. “If she loses, Sasha comes to me. I’ll train her in ways-”

“No.” She says hotly-cutting me off. “I have seen what you do to your women. I’ll not subject one of mine to it.”

“For all intents and purposes, I don’t treat them any differently than my male wards. They’re just not strong enough to handle it. Such is the frailty of women.”

“You destroy them,” Remus says. “And then toss them away. Like they were nothing.”

“Weapons are disposable,” I say simply. “When one fails to perform as it should- it’s good to have backups. I have a full armory at my disposal. Men who would die for me with the slightest of hesitation.”

“Fear a good ruler does not make,” Remus says. “As you should have figured out by now.”

“I see results with my methods. I doubt you could say the same.”

She looks at the ground. “What you’re doing to that boy isn’t right. You’ll break him before you get your precious ‘results’.”

“The boy is mine. What I do with him is none of your business. He is treated as he deserves to be treated.”

My possessions are cared for as they need to be. I feel no need to coddle or spare them from the cruelties they’ll face in this life.

My little Daken is proof of that. Spirited yet obedient. Fearless yet fearful of all the right things.

Remus wishes to save him. She can barely be in the same room with him because she’s filled with guilt. Second-hand guilt- at that. I feel no sadness for the child. What I’m granting him is a gift that will see him through life and it’s harshness.

“He’s a little boy,” Remus says. “Trade him to me. I’ll do the majority of his formative training and you can have him back when he’s older.”

“No,” I say flatly.

Daken has become… a favorite of mine. He is eager to please. He’s eager to please in any task I set before him. The perfect soldier.

“Mark my words- you’ll break the boy.” She repeats.

“That’s the intent, sister,” I say cooly. “To forge a weapon, heat and pressure must be applied. He’s bound to crack in some capacity. The breaking will make him stronger.”

“You’re stripping him of his emotions. He’s no good to you if he’s a husk of a person.” She says as if emotions amounted to something other than a means for effective manipulation.

“Emotions are frivolous. He has no need for them.”

My mind briefly flips back to his rabbit in the stables. Something should be done about that. I’ll put a pin in it for later. A lesson is warranted about ‘kindness’ to the weak.

“His powers are based on emotion, are they not? How can he properly use them if he can’t feel what he’s emoting?”

Her earnestness makes me smile. “You would do anything to get my boy- wouldn’t you?” I ask.

“Frankly, yes. What you do to him is not right.”

She only knows half of what I do to him.

No one knows the special bond I and the boy are creating. A slave must be willing to give his master everything. His mind, his soul, and his body.

“He’s too young.” She says. “It makes you disgusting to look at.”

“I’ve done this for ages. If he’s old enough to draw blood he’s old enough for.. other activities.”

“Times have changed. It isn’t like it was in the old days.” She says grimly.

“I refuse the notion of changing with time,” I say. “Time is what I make it. I will not yield to newfound notions of right and wrong.” I wait for her response before continuing with, “There is no ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. There is simply ‘weak’ and ‘strong’. If you are weak, you will be used up by the strong- such is the way of the world. I teach the boy nothing that I was not taught.” I pause. “That we were not taught.”

“Your mind is dark and twisted by the years.” She says.

“My mind is as sharp as ever.” I disagree.

“You’ll lose that boy. One day he’ll either snap or run. And he looks like a runner.”

“I have more than enough resources to track him down.” I watch her intently. “If you’re so concerned- get yourself a boy to train. One who you can coddle. Daken does not need your interference. His training is cruel yet just. He will thank me for all that I’ve done when he’s older.”

We stand at an impasse for a few moments. The coals look ever so enticing. Burning her face. The face that men have marched to war for time and time again. Yet she uses her beauty for acts of ‘good’ and ‘kindness’. The notion makes me laugh.

“Like your other boy….” She taps a finger to her lips “Where is he again?”

“In a sealed pit,” I say tonelessly. “I feel no shame for what happened to him nor do I take responsibility for it. He was given many a chance to save himself.”

“And has little Daken learned of where he’ll end up if he fails you too many times during his ‘breaking’?” Remus asks.

I inhale slowly. “Daken is a special boy. I have many plans for him.”

“And does he know of your plans?”

“I very much doubt it. He’s a horrible liar. If he were to know something, I would have gotten him to tell me as soon as he discovered it.”

We fall into silence- I watch her intently. Body language. Posture.

She stands still as a statue.  
Just as still and three times as dull.

Remus walks to the coals, moving a good distance away from. Not that it should matter if I did decide to push her face-first into the low fires. How her vanity would take a hit if I were to maim her two hours before one of her ‘very important’ meetings.

“Have you anything else to discuss- or are we finished?” I ask, bored.

She keeps turned away from me- shielding her face. “My maidens are uncomfortable here.” She says.

Hmm. As they should be.  
Women are not welcome here unless they are employed to keep the domestic side of things underhand or by my own will.

My sister’s maidens would do well to remember that.

“And you?” I ask, wanting a verbal confession of her unease to prove that she to has fallen into weakness. That I am, as I always have been, the most powerful. It’s a contest we’ve been locked into since birth. In the end, I will win. As I always have and as I always will.

She turns and faces me. “You never scare me, brother. You never have and you never will.”

As foolish as she is vain.

“Then you’re more of an idiot than I thought,” I smirk.

Remus grimaces. “Remind your generals that they should lose appendages should they touch my girls.”

“My generals want nothing to do with your girls,” I say cooly.

“Men have wants.” She says simply.

As if I weren’t aware of the weakness of men.

How many you can string along with a pretty face. A siren’s call. Smiling like idiots while they drown.

I rid my men of that distraction.

“They’ve been castrated,” I say. “You will find that their lust will go unrewarded as they simply do not have the equipment.”

“Good lord.” She gasps, lowly. “Why would you do such a thing??”

“Keeps testosterone down. Less chance of an uprising. Less chance of them impregnating women or becoming distracted by them. You’re vile creatures, after all. You of all people should know the sway a cunt has on a man.”

She has makes just the smallest of flinches at the ‘foul’ word.

“Charming.” She says cooly. “And I suppose you’ve done this to the boy as well? He doesn’t seem to be one to be swayed by a pretty face.”

I shake my head. “I require his bloodline. He’s a very special breed. And he’s male. How easy it will be to create more when he’s of age. I am keeping my options open.”

“You talk about him like breeding stock.” She says in disgust.

“I do as I have done since the beginning of our time on this wretched planet,” I say. “And I get the same results every time. You are the one who is attempting to change the universal balance. And I suspect it will explode in your face, leaving you with nothing.”

“I grew tired of my charges whimpering at night and cringing when I went to touch them.” She says. “I do not feed off of fear. Power can be cultivated-”

“Fear and power will always go hand in hand.” I interrupt. “It’s as if you’ve learned nothing.”

“Times are changing, brother,” Remus says. “And you’ve got to change with them. Lest you get left behind.”

“I will take that into consideration,” I smirk. “In the meantime, leave my things alone.”

“That boy-”

“Is mine. He knew what he signed up for.”

“He was an emotional child. Don’t tell me you don’t hear him wail at night.”

“I keep the doors shut,” I say simply.

“Locking away a screaming child. How…. like you.”

“I care not for the emotional state of a tool,” I say. “I just want results. And I’m getting them. The boy grows stronger by the day. More reserved. He loses more and more of that innocence and-”

“And when he is no longer innocent will you still want him?” She asks.

“None of my tools are completely innocent. They do my bidding. How they choose to do it is completely up to them.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” She sneers. “You’re behind it all. Pulling strings. Cutting them down when they’re no longer of use. You’re nothing more than a puppet master- conducting a play of destruction and betrayal.”

“That may be, but I have more ‘puppets’ to string behind them. An army of people who owe me their loyalty.”

“And the boy?” She asks. “What does he owe you?”

“His very life. Who else would have taken a murderous orphan into their homes?”

“You set him up. You set him up for everything. You made his foster mother pregnant. You made her grow to hate him. You made the villagers hate him. You made him despise them. Had you not interfered-”

“Remus, I will not go through this with you again. I am bored with it. Change the topic or leave.” I say dully.

“I have company tonight.” She says. “So I will leave. But mark my words- you break this one enough and you’ll be down one ‘heir’. And when you have no successors, the throne will go to me. And once it is mine- there will be nothing you can do but sit silently or go into exile.”

“A lovely sentiment as always, sister.”

She smiles. “Keep the little ones screaming to a minimum. He spooked my friends last night.”

Hmm.

“Gods forbid he gets in the way of you whoring yourself about,” I say snidely.

“Always have to get the last word- don’t you?” She sighs.

I smile. “My words mean more than yours. They have thought behind them.”

Remus pauses at the door. “I wish I’d left you in the dungeon.” She says, hand on the doorway. “I wish I hadn’t saved you.”

“Memories of years too long passed,” I say. “I am what I am because you helped guide me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, brother. You had a choice. You had a choice between two very different paths.” She looks over her shoulder. “You chose wrong.”

Before I can retort she’s gone.

Stupid woman.

The door cracks open a few moments after she’s left. I don’t need to turn to see him.

“What do you want?” I ask cooly.

He steps to my side, timidly. “May I go with Sasha down to the docks?” The boy asks quietly. His voice squeaks a little. Fear? Or just coming of age? Maybe a sign of both.

“And why would you want to do that?”

“I want to see the sea people.”

How can he be so childish still? He has moments when he’s the perfect tool- then he goes on missions like this that are nothing but childish and meaningless.

“And why would you want to do that?” I repeat.

He swallows audibly.

Daken is awful at asking me for things. I find it… encouraging.

“I just… I’ve never seen them before. I want to see them.”

Hmm. Perhaps it’s best to give the boy a little leeway tonight after all. Considering what I have planned for later.  
A lesson which has been sparked by Remus’s ‘concern’.  
I’ll be sure to tell her that his screams this night are firmly of her doing and no one else’s.  
Such a lovely gift to give her after her blatant disrespect

Building weapons is a constant game of give and take. You give just enough to give them the tiniest glimmer of hope before snatching it away. They’ll do anything to receive that hope- that praise- again. Anything.

“You can go,” I say. “But you will take Orien with you.”

I can hear his disgust at that statement.

“And you have a problem with my order?” I ask.

“No, Master. No problem.”

“Then go collect her. I expect Sasha will be leaving soon”

“Thank you, Master.”

So easy to please.

So grateful over the stupidest of things.

With a few more decades of hard labor and many corrections, he may just be as useful as I had hoped when I removed him from his pathetic excuse of a mother.

For now, we stay hidden.

Lest the father decides he wants to come to take his child.

I will allow the two to meet, in time. When Daken is a perfectly sharpened tool.

For now, I’ll allow the boy his childish delusions.

Part of the give and take game.

There is only I. Only I can care for him. Only I can protect him. Only I can make him feel the stirrings of love and kindness- to me and me alone.

My methods can be considered ‘cruel’ by some. But they are effective. If he cannot bend with the pressure then he will snap. And heirs are so easily replaced.

Besides, his idiot father can always have more children. Children are better suited to my needs. If this one doesn’t work out, I’ll just pick another.

I’m not fond of any of my followers. I care for them less than one would a pet. But making them believe that they can satisfy me is a fun game.

One I’ve played time and time again.

I’d almost wager that I enjoy the breaking more than I do the molding.

Nothing gets done but it’s oh so fun to watch.

“Run along,” I tell him, still looking at the hot coals. “Before I change my mind.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you.”

I hear him close the door behind him.

I rest in my chair- thinking of completely nothing. Taking in all the sights and sounds of my compound. The servants working in the kitchen down the hall, the maids fussing over the unusual amount of dust we seem to attract, Remus ‘maidens’ talking about her company tonight.

This all exists by my will.

Should I choose to take it from them- each and every one of them- no one would stop me. No one would raise a hand.

That- that makes me smile. Knowing the power I have cultivated and various lives it could affect. It’s a happiness that has no monetary value.

Kings and Queens alike would tremble with it should they get a taste.

For now, I keep it to myself. Willing to offer a taste of it to anyone who should desire to please me.


	3. And I run (Daken. 10)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavily implied/referenced non con and child abuse that is physical, mental, and sexual, along with emotional.  
Everything is stated in a way that I hope is clear but non-graphic. 
> 
> Mentions wanting to murder someone (which happens a lot so I'm not sure if it's actually a trigger?)  
And drunkenness. Also mentioned underage drinking (in a past instance)  
And underage tabaco usage. (smoking cigarettes)  
Nudity- though it's not directed at anyone in particular.  
And, made up sea people/culture. 
> 
> Please enjoy! (responsibly :) )

The wind is howling when we reach the docks, which honestly aren't as big as I imagined them being when they were first mentioned to me. There are five of them lined up in a row along the shore, spaced just far enough apart to count them from where I am standing, but too far to make out any distinct details. Large and small boats alike bob and sway as rough jets of water splash up from the sea. There seems to be no one around the dock or the boats at this time. Which I find odd. Not too odd- but odd.   
  
It's always alarming with just how well Master and Remus can conduct business.. how does Orien say it? 'Under the table'. 

I think that simply means that somehow when they have to do something there's always a very suspicious lack of witnesses. Areas that would usually be well-populated for some reason are not. People who would be around have been directed elsewhere.   
  
This is how they manage to run things from the shadows. 

And honestly? That is somewhat terrifying.   
  
The way Master and Remus conduct themselves is nothing but frightening, in a sense. I always get the feeling that they could do whatever they wished to any of us and we wouldn't be able to stop them. In a sense, I do honestly believe that we are only allowed to live our lives as we do by their good graces. And with their very noted temperaments being kept in mind, that may not be a very good thing. 

As we approach the docks the moonlight above is obstructed by the black storm clouds over an even darker pitch-black sky. There are no stars to guide us, either. Our vision is dulled to a point where I'm decently sure that 'normal' people would not be able to see at all. It's not only our vision that we find lacking in this situation, however. As the storm grows- so does the sound rushing into the shore from the ocean As if some demented sounds were trying to rush the shore while the wind gave them the opportunity. It's a howling, whistling sort of sound that I doubt someone who's never lived near the sea would understand.

I'm told that people find the sea relaxing. That they visit it for that purpose alone. Those people have probably not witnessed many nights like this. They have no idea just how _loud_ the sea can be. How scary those waves look on the horizon. 

The sea is dark and vast- the water almost as black as the sky in the limited lighting. The white caps of the tumbling waves are the biggest defining feature that makes the two differ.   
  
As we grow ever closer to our target, we hear nothing over the wind and sea. It's almost deafening.

It is not something I would label as 'relaxing' in any stretch of the imagination. 

In the pitch-black night sky, lightning flashes- bright branches of almost purple light illuminating my companion's worried faces. The flashes of lightning and howling winds are accompanied by a stinging rain pelts down on us in sheets. If someone were to actually come from the ocean depths in this weather? I would be surprised.

I am hopeful that they will- but this weather is… off-putting.

I have not lived near the coast for long, but I have heard people talking of really big storms that come in from the ocean- bringing massive waves with them.

I’m not sure it counts as a valid fear as I have not experienced it myself, but… I am scared of turbulent waters. I don't like not being able to breathe and water, while it can be beautiful in smaller doses in more controlled settings, is a scaring and dominating force. I find it best to respect it. It is a force of life that will not hesitate to take those who would be stupid enough to test their luck against it. It's a fear I am careful to keep from my master, as I know he'd try to rid me of it. And honestly? I do not believe that I am ready for those lessons. I understand that what my Master does he must do- but I do not think I would survive. 

The rain is so hard that you can hear it impacting the already saturated mud underfoot. I’m soaked to the bone but still very excited- if not somewhat nervous. Master was very kind to let me come. I have a sinking suspicion that he will want me to repay him for his kindness- though I can’t even begin to understand in what form he will take his payment.

After all… you don’t get something for nothing. If he’s taught me anything at all... it is most definitely that.   
It's not a bad lesson to be taught in the slightest- but it is quite a memorable one. I suppose it's the only one that he'll never have to repeat (If I have anything to do with that decision.) 

When I left Master earlier, I was in such a hurry to find Orien and catch up with Sasha that I forgot my shoes- so the mud squelches under my bare feet. The feeling is not completely awful, though I do prefer to be shoed on most occasions. 

It isn't a long trek from our compound- but long enough to where shoes would have been very useful.

Orien is, of course, not happy with this. But she didn’t notice until we were about five minutes from the gates of our compound and I refused to turn back.

I am NOT missing the sea people. Not when I’ve come so far. 

Honestly, asking Master for things is extremely hard. I'm lucky I was allowed to come at all. I intend to prove myself worthy of this honor by gaining any and all knowledge. 

I’m glancing down at my feet as we approach- stepping over rocks as our path moves from the dirt path we take to the gravel-covered ground that leads to the long singular wooden dock.

Most docks have many different boats tethered to them. But not this one. It’s long and wooden- nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. It's firm underfoot but poorly maintained as well- a very vexing combination. Why would you take care of something but at the same time ... not?

Several boards are sticking up in a jagged fashion and I can see a rusty nail at the very beginning of the walkway. 

Once again- I silently wish I had brought shoes. I mean- really. It was not wise of me to leave the compound without. However, I just can’t find my boots.

I didn’t want to bring it up with Master least he gets mad…. Especially when I was going to ask him something. If he’d known that I’d stupidly misplaced my boots? I wouldn’t have gone anywhere.

In fact, if that were to have transpired- I doubt I would even be able to walk at all.

Master is harsh with his punishments and I have to learn how to deal with that and learn through them. It is the solemn task I have set before me. It's one thing to be in pain and learn absolutely nothing- but it takes a true warrior to experience the pain and learn through it. Honestly, the arrangement is not unlike any other adult/child relationship. Just… firmer. But then again, with the way my body heals? He needs to be more extreme. At least that’s how one of my tutors explained it to me when I was complaining in my lessons a few months ago. Healing broken bones is by far one of my least favorite sensations and I couldn’t keep my complaints to myself.

If I am to be more than I am- I cannot allow the weakness of giving into the pain to take hold. Master says weakness is like a seed- you allow it in, you water it, and then you're overrun. It will sprout and spread like vines- choking out every ounce of strength and growth you could ever think to possibly achieve.   
When weakness takes over, **_that_**, that is when you have failed.   
  
I'm honestly not sure what happens to those Master deems unworthy of his time (no one's told me just yet) but I know- even now at my current age- that failure is not an option. 

As we approach the dock- I step onto the wood carefully. My body will reject splinters- yes. But… I don’t want to get them if I can avoid it. I don't count this as a weakness but caution. Caution is different. Caution is smart and refined. It's much different than fear. 

Sasha moves quickly yet gracefully- almost like she’s gliding. I do not understand how she manages to do this. It's not just a Sasha thing- though. Almost all of the 'older' people know how to do it. 

Sasha’s dressed in a very conservative dress- mimicking a Kimono- but not quite as formal or restricting. Remus appreciates her liking of less 'showy' fashion choices because it leaves the attention to go to Remus's own ridiculously over the top ensembles.

Sasha's dress comes in tightly at the waist, making her appear even thinner than usual.

The blues and reds of the cloth are dimmed in the dark, but somehow still radiate the aura that only fine silks and other such materials seem to be able to do.

It’s pretty- but sturdy. And I know it’s probably designed with the idea that if she needed to- she could run. Sasha is a very fast runner. I doubt that Orien could even catch her. And that woman? That woman is known to be fast. 

We come to a stop on the dock- swollen and rotted wood underfoot. 

I have to inhale deeply- preparing myself for either excitement or disappointment. I do not think Sasha would have led me all this way if there were not Sea people... but I also don't put her lying to me for a laugh at my expense above her.   
  
There very well could just be some sailors we are gathering. It would be disappointing but I guess, when you think about it, she wouldn't have technically been lying. 

Still- if that is the case, I will not speak to her for at least a week. 

I turn my eyes to the howling waves as I scan what I can see of the water with as much scrutiny as I can muster- looking for faces.

“Not too late to turn back scaredy-cat.” Sasha teases. Maybe it's the weather or the nerves- but her voice sounds... odd. Disturbed in some sense. Sasha doesn't hide her emotions well- but I can't seem to peg this one. 

Perhaps if we were alone or we'd had time to chat beforehand but we, of course, weren't granted that time. Her expression... in a sense, though it is very minimal, it looks like she's in some sort of pain. A twinge of something unknown and unnamed. Perhaps... it's better that way. If there is one thing I am picking up quicker than the rest of the lessons it is that emotions are very senseless things to indulge in. Thing like fear, trepidation, love, joy- they do nothing for you. Master is very insistent on this lesson. I honestly doubt he's genuinely experienced anything close to joy in years- maybe **_centuries_**. 

That doesn't matter now, though.   
  
I store Sasha's seemingly random mood swings within my brain- deciding to circle back to it later. Now? She needs me to answer her. 

Plus- the nickname irks me. 

“I am not afraid,” I say- though my voice is quiet amidst the wind.

To our left- a large branch falls from a nearby tree- toppling to the ground with a loud ‘snap’.

Orien clears her throat, staring at the tree. “This storm is no place for children. Do what you must and let us return- Sasha will catch her death out here.”

Orien takes the fun out of everything. She’s a ‘nanny’ in name only. In reality, all she does is scold me from sunup to sundown and smoke pack after pack of cigarettes.

I steal them from time to time, enjoying the taste of tobacco and smoke filling my mouth and lungs. They make me feel… mature. I like to imagine myself ordering people around when I smoke them- watching my reflection to see if the action of smoking would make me look more hardened.

“You can go back.” I offer ‘helpfully’.

She glares at me. “If I go back, there’s a chance you’ll get lost.” She crosses her arms. “Or fall in and drown. Can you imagine Master’s reaction if I were to come back and tell him that you fell into the ocean and drowned?”

The thing that gets me about Orien is that she’s confusing.

She’s mean- but not all the time.  
She’s loud- but not all the time.  
Sometimes she’s funny- sometimes she has no sense of humor whatsoever.

Even her appearance is contradictory.

Her hair is jet black- save a bright white streak running straight down the middle.  
She’s not young but she’s not old.  
And her eyes- each one is a different color. One blue and one green. I've honestly never seen someone with eyes like her. 

In some sense, she's a very interesting person in her own right. I know she's been through quite a bit at this point in her life. She's a good source to learn from- at times. 

Tonight, however, I find her completely annoying. I did not want her 'help' for this excursion and I do not for the life me understand why Master sent her along. 

It's not as if Sasha and I haven't run missions on our own. It's not often that we do them together- but it's happened before. 

Orien is eyeing me as if waiting to judge my reaction- which honestly just annoys me more. 

I roll my eyes. “I can swim,” I growl. 

“No, you can’t,” Sasha says. “And we all know it.”

I cross my arms. “I could learn,” I mumble, defiantly. 

Orien rolls her eyes to the left- looking away from me as if I'm not worth the effort to look at while she dismisses me. “I can’t believe you’ve dragged me out in the middle of a thunderstorm because you just HAD to be nosey. I’ve got things to do tonight, Daken.” She fusses. “And once again YOU are taking up all of my time. Like you always do.”

My anger stills in my chest- something is off. I know Orien is mad because she’s got to come with us… but she seems more touchy than usual. So much so that I’m not sure it’s me she’s really mad it. She can be one of those confusing adults that get mad at something completely unrelated and then take their anger out on someone who has nothing to do with it.

Sasha spares her a glance that once again, I don't understand.   
  
Adults being mad for no reason I get- it happens frequently.   
But... is Sasha ... also mad? 

I don't know what I could have done to anger them both in so little time.   
It's bothering me but I have to tell myself that I don't care. Not right now. I'm on a mission and I need to focus. 

I repeat this in my head a few times, trying to dismiss all the unhelpful thoughts and unease I have building up inside of me. 

“I wanted to see Sea People,” I say sternly- silently congratulating myself on sounding so firm and hardened. “So I’m going to see them. You can go home.”

Orien did not appreciate that comment- I can see the anger rise in her- almost like watching a red in a thermometer rise and rise as a hot day progresses. “I will drag you back to the compound by your ears if you don’t watch that tone.” She says hotly. "I am an adult and I deserve your respect." 

“Yes, _ma’am,_” I say, refusing to look at her. 

Orien is from Americ and I wish for nothing more than her returning to it. 

Her accent is odd. I'm told she's from New York or Boston or something. 

I honestly do not know the layout of America and I don't care to learn anytime soon. 

Given the tension between my country of origin and America- I think it's safe to say that my not wanting to visit is a wish that will be respected. 

The war was a big deal, I'm told.   
As wars are. (That I've read of, at any rate) 

Master says that in a few years, I'll be fighting in countries I haven't even heard of yet. I'll be making my way through the world- learning how it works, how it turns. The things I will see and do will be so much different than what I know of the world now and I will experience everything there is to experience.   
  
Master makes it sound enticing. Like something to look forward to. Almost like a reward of sorts. Something to make me work harder and soothe the pain of my injuries on bad days. When Master tells me these things- I hang onto his every word. I've never had an adult care for me _this_ much. Someone who wants me to have a future- a future they want to help me achieve. It all sounds like some kind of fairytale. I'll have everything I ever wanted... and more. How could I say 'no' to that or be even slightly ungrateful? 

When I tell Sasha about these talks I have with him she rolls her eyes and scoffs. 

It's not my fault that her Mistress has not planned for her. Honestly. I think she's jealous. 

Still- she's the only person in the compound that I can speak informally with so... I tell her everything anyway.   
  
While I am excited, she is unenthused. 

...Sasha says he's preparing to send me off to random places and that I won't be with him at all- but under the instruction of other people. I find it odd to think that Master would... farm my training out to others, as it were. 

He's said nothing to allude to the issue one way or the other- but still... I'd like to think Sasha was wrong. 

After all, we don't serve the same Master. We live in the same home and our Masters are known to interact with each other and the other's followers- but... Sasha is not bound by the same rules so she does not exactly know how we work. 

Though we are divided by a single building- her on one wing, me on the other- we couldn't be further apart. 

And that is the way it will always be.   
  
Orien is one of the few factors that connect us as she's been ordered by both of our Masters' (and mistress, I suppose) to take care of the children. Something neither of them seems to have the patience for full time.   
  
Orien is young-ish and is well versed in child-rearing. 

She's mentioned just once in our many interactions that she at one point had her own children.   
  
I do not know what happened to them, however. And I get the sinking suspicion that wherever they are, they did not reach adulthood. 

She'll never say anything- not even when she's drunk. And I have tried to pry the information from her.   
  
At any rate, she's an adult supervisor that both Remus and Master seem to trust and she was helping take care of Sasha long before I came here.

I do believe the girl's been here for years on years on years. Before Orien even came.   
  
I honestly, truthfully, do not know much about my friend. Barely anything, to be honest. 

That's how things work around here. No one knows anything but Master- who collects the knowledge of all of the individuals separately and then complies it until he knows everything. 

One such result of his 'findings' being, of course, that he can trust Orien to carry out a large number of orders- usually with no complaints from the woman. 

Though I will admit, at times, she's known to mouth off. 

Master is not above correcting her- either. 

Sometimes when we’re out in public trying to pass ourselves off as normal people, she pretends to be my mother. Saying my father was a soldier that has since passed.

She's not Japanese in the slightest and plays the 'poor American widow in a hostile country' role well. 

I hate that excuse. In my mind- It dulls the thought of my actual mother.

I have the smallest dream- a passing one that helps me sleep on the darkest of nights- The small flicker of hope that she didn’t die- that she and my father are looking for me. That I was cherished and wanted. That we simply got separated.

...That someone wanted me. That someone somewhere is looking for me. That I have a home. 

Not a home like I have now- the compound will never truly be home. It's been made very clear that I do not belong here- that really _none _of us belong here. Master and Remus are the only ones who would be here naturally. Everyone else, be it for good or bad, is hereby their good graces. 

I long for a home I've never had, in a sense.   
If my mother were to come back- if she were to find me, to know about me, to... want me, she probably wouldn't be able to take me anyway. 

Master will never let me go.   
His plan for me is vast and I don't understand it well- but... I want to. 

My mother collecting me is a stupid dream. A stupid plan. It wouldn't work in the slightest. But... It’s still a dim hope.

She's easier to imagine than my father. 

Master says my father was a monster. A beast of a man. Ferocious. Unfeeling. He probably took my mother by force and made her beg for the sweet relief of death. Imagine- forcing yourself on a defenseless woman and then making her bear your child.   
Perhaps I have to deal with the fact that I was probably very much unwanted.   
  
My father was a brute who took any and everything he wanted. My mother an innocent, sweet woman who would have given birth to me regardless of how ai was conceived. But my father wouldn't let that happen. Master says it was very much an animalistic move. I don't know how he knows anything about it- but Master knowing things he shouldn't is just something he does. It's not that surprising.   
  
My mother is an angel. My father a devil. 

And I? 

I am their poor mistake. Not to be cared for and if left up to my father- dead inside my mother's cooling corpse. 

Even though Master seems to know enough of my father to know how much of an evil man he was- he will not give me more information than that. 

If he knows about my father, logically he knows about my mother.   
  
All he's told me on that subject was that she was a beautiful woman who met a tragic end. As most beautiful women do- according to him. 

The story he tells of my parents never plays out like I want it to.   
And I know it's childish of me to wish for a different ending- you can't change the past, after all. 

But still... 

I sometimes like to reject my Master's telling of things. I prefer mine. Where I’m simply... Misplaced, and they will show up one day to take me back.

I observe every white man who comes into my Master’s compound. Looking for similarities. I compare myself to them- but nothing seems to stick.

One is a large blonde man. Claws on his fingers. He looks at me with a smirk. Something that says he knows something I don’t. Something funny to him.

I know he’s not my father. But I can’t help but think he knows a little something about him.

I try to compare- mix and match features to my own- but… how can I when I have no idea how either of my parents look?

I imagine my mother was pretty- she had to be.  
Soft skin. Soft voice.  
Someone who would want to spend time with me.

My father? I have no clue.

I honestly don’t see a lot of foreigners.

I can’t imagine which one he would look like because I don’t know where he came from.

Our small party stays to the very edge of the dock where the water seems to be it’s darkest. I scan it again- seeing nothing.

I creep closer and closer to the edge of the dock- drawn into the water step by hazardous step. My toes are on the edge of the splintering wooden surface- I'm almost tempted to push off- dive into the sea and see how far I can sink into the howling waves. 

I bet the sea people have some kind of magic about them- they'd have to, to live under the ocean. 

I imagine that staring into the water as I am, I can see them- lurking.   
  
My mind runs wild- as it does when I'm not actively focusing on being logical and precise. 

In this moment- away from my Master and my tutors- I truly feel the creative stream of just being imaginative. I miss imagining things that weren't violent. A daydream. An imaginary scene in my Parent's back yard- a play I was performing with as much gusto as I could manage... I miss the days when I could simply be imaginative on my own with no purpose. Write something. Draw something. 

Those days are long past. 

I feel this urge of nostalgia as I face down the water.   
  
Somehow the soft surface of the ocean seems to be getting closer. 

I am surprised and the new shift of positions. 

I find myself reaching a handout- the ocean is foaming- just out of reach. 

There’s a sudden jerk on my collar- pulling me back into the middle of the dock.

My eyes are wide as I turn back to my party. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing???” Orien demands.

Orien is dressed in a thick, long, tan overcoat that comes down to her knees- covering her long gray skirt that stops a few inches shy of her ankles. She looks unimposing- one would not think she would be capable of startling anyone- let alone me... who are supposed to be learning how to not react to sudden jolts and noises. 

As is- I stare at her, shocked.

“I wanted to see-”

“Look with your eyes- not your body.” Orien scolds. “You were about to fall face first. This is exactly why you can’t be left to your own devices! You will do something stupid and die. Do you want to die, Daken?”

I’m quick to shake my head.

“Then stay on the fucking dock.” She growls.

"Storms like these call out to certain types of people," Sasha says. "There's power in the water." 

"Power?" I ask, staring at it. 

Sasha turns to me and nods. "You almost went face-first into it, scaredy-cat." She smirks a little. "You must be one of those sailors who drown themselves because they were so 'entranced' by the song of the sea." 

"I am not!" I argue. "I just..." I stop.   
  
"You what?" She presses.   
  
I shake my head. "I don't know," I say honestly. "I was just thinking and it seemed to happen." 

"Well don't let it happen again," Orien says, sounding pissed as ever. "Keeping you alive and walking is by far the hardest job." She fumes before looking at the sky. "And, I would honestly like a smoke but someone has dragged us out in the middle of this damned rain." 

"Sorry," I say quietly. 

"Be silent." Sasha scolds, watching us carefully before looking down to check her black and gold wristwatch.

It’s so pretty. Remus allows her to have nice things.  
I think she even buys them for her.

My Master doesn’t buy me anything I don’t need.  
Clothing, shoes… things like that.

Definitely not something nice like Sasha’s watch.

“Early.” She sighs. “Even with the little scaredy-cat taking up so much time.”

We stand quietly- watching her seem to stand calmly by the water.   
I can hear the slightest sound of her heartbeat start to race.

There's a splash off to her side- causing her to look up from her watch. She bows at the waist- meaning she's seen something. 

Or.. more so... someone. 

My breath catches in my chest. 

“Hmm. Late for some.” A calm voice says, coming from the water.

The voice is calm and speaks in an accent I cannot immediately place. I'm not sure if that's a human accent at all. 

I move towards the edge, eager to see the man who the voice belongs to- only to be pulled back again, harshly, by a very unamused Orien. 

I watch the water with wide eyes- tracking the voice.

Sasha wasn’t kidding! They’re actually sea people. The voice is male- coming from the water, clear as day.

There is a person- or thing- in the water- risen from the depths and talking in perfect English. 

I am stunned- to be honest.   
I've seen a lot of strange things in my young life- more so since joining my Master- but this? This has to be one of the biggest and most exciting things to happen in quite some time. 

“I apologize." She says, still bowed. "My colleague couldn’t seem to find the right outfit.” She cuts her eyes to me. “My mistress very much looks forward to your arrival.”

The man she’s talking to slowly climbs to the dock- he has deep blue skin. His arms house some sort of fins, but his face is very human-like- to be honest, he’s very handsome. I am almost entranced. I’ve never seen someone with blue skin before.

He watches me with peculiar yellow eyes- shining. Almost golden, really. 

He seems to be breathing air just fine.   
  
He's naked- as I expect anyone who lives in the sea to be, I suppose. Why would one bother with wearing clothing if the clothes were just going to be wet all the time anyway? I don't enjoy wet clothing, myself. 

In the water, there are two women with the same skin and long tangled blue hair.

One has some kind of starfish in her hair- using it to pin it back into some sort of style.   
Looking at the other woman, I see she has some sort of made-up thing as well.   
  
It occurs to me that the messy hair may be a style where they come from.   
  
Even with it pinned back, they both wear it long- almost dipping down into the small of their backs. 

Unlike the man, the two women have darker blue markings on their faces- almost in stripes. Their skin looks very similar to a fish I've seen once upon a time. They, however, are far more beautiful. 

Their male counterpart offers them his hands, helping to steady them as they climb to the docks. 

I watch in amazement as they climb from the water- their skin seems to dry almost instantly. As if the water just beads against it and drys as soon as it makes contact with the air. 

The women laugh and joke, speaking with Sasha and complimenting her in a way that makes them sound very familiar to her. As if she's had a million-plus conversations with them.   
  
I know her Mistress will go away for long periods and will often take Sasha. Is it possible that the two of them have visited with these people before? In a longer stint of time than they would have had back at the compound. 

I’m so distracted by the women's beautiful glowing yellow eyes that I completely overlook the fact that they, like the man, are naked. 

Their anatomy seems to be very human as well. Just… blue. And a little scaley now that I’m looking at them.

I find it odd that they should resemble humans so much... but at the same time be so utterly inhuman. 

“And who’s this?” The man points to Orien, a smile on his face. 

“The little ones babysitter,” Sasha says. "He's young and needs a close eye to be kept over him. As I'm sure you saw." 

“Both of our babysitter,” I growl.

The man smiles wider- showing sharp teeth. Like a shark's, I'd imagine. “A little young to be out in this weather- don’t you think? I saw you almost fall in.”

He’s easily six feet tall. The women with him are much smaller.

"I needed to see," I say, somewhat defensively.   
  
"Oh yes. That is, unfortunately, one of the side effects of us coming ashore. Mortals being drawn into the sea- I apologize, youngling. It is very hard to resist. It's quite fortunate that you had someone to catch you." He grins again. "Not that I would have let you drown." He winks at me. 

I find myself unsettled, but unwilling to back down out of this encounter. 

"A youngling falling face-first from a dock." One woman shakes her head. "Can you imagine? I'd say it would be the same if one of my little guppies were to fancy seeing the sun for themselves." 

Guppies? 

The woman has babies? And they're fish?   
Interesting. 

"Hmm. It's been a long while since any of our young made it up this far." The man says. "Let alone without supervision." 

I don't like that they keep using the word 'young'. I know I am a child- I can obviously not change that- but I'm so much more... mature than they seem to think I am. 

"To be fair," Orien says with a chuckle, "Humans do tend to keep our young inside on nights like this." 

“We also keep our young in bed when the sea is this turbulent.” One of the women says. "My own are tucked away quite securely- under the watch of their father." 

So I suppose the man with her is not their father? 

"You should be inside, little one." She says. "It's far too dangerous for you out here." 

I want to point out that I was only in danger because of them- which they admitted. 

If I were given time to adjust- I'm sure the ocean's draw would not have been that alluring. 

“I’m not that young.” I try to defend. "I'm actually very capable of handling myself." 

The man leans forward looking at me closely. “What are you, ten? Eleven? Surely not thirteen.”

“Ten.” I agree. "Which is almost any adult." 

"Oh?" He chuckles. "And here I thought humans did not mature to adulthood until ... eighteen- was it, Ms?" he asks Sasha. 

She nods. "You are correct." 

He returns her nod. "See? Even your friend here is not an adult. And she's six years your senior." 

"I'm more mature than my age would make it seem." I huff.   
  
I do not like being treated as a child.   
It's a very rare occurrence for someone to actually treat me as one would someone my age and I honestly at this point in my life do not how to respond when people do it.   
  
I see it as them belittling me or trying to dismiss me- which makes me quite angry. 

"Alright." the man holds his hands up. "I didn't mean to offend you, little one." His voice is joyful. Playful.

"You didn't offend me," I say. "I was just saying. Looks are deceiving. I am not a child." 

They share a chuckle. “The little one is so… brave.” One of the women says. "I would think that someone of his..size would want to be cared for as long as possible." 

"He's got several inches to grow yet." Sasha says. "if he makes it that far." 

That makes me worry. When people speak of me like this- especially in front of me- they usually do not mean me well.

“I am brave.” I agree. "And I will grow." 

I look to Sasha who rolls her eyes.

“A bravery of which we can see.” The blue man says, grinning. 

“Hmm. He has something about him.” The woman to his right says. “Something... Almost unnatural. Well, for us, at any rate.” She smirks. “Come here, little one.” She says- ushering me to her with a hand- her fingers have some sort of webbing. However, despite her alluring eyes and odd body features- I find myself unmoving.

“No thank you.” I step back a few inches from Sasha.

“I won’t bite.” The woman says. "My teeth are quite dull at the moment as I have not lost my last row at the moment. Were you to see me a month or so down the road, they would be much more frightening." 

"You lose teeth?" 

She nods. 

"More than once?" 

She ushers me to her. "Come here, little one. I want to see you." 

I hold my ground, shaking my head. "I think I want to stay here." 

“Daken, don’t be rude.” Orien scolds, raising an eyebrow. 

I feel like I may have overstepped some boundaries here. And that if there is to be any trouble between our parties, I may have very well caused it just by being prideful and getting too easily offended. 

"Come, come." She says, drawing me into her. 

I watch her with somewhat wide eyes as she urges me forward.

My steps are small as I walk towards the sea woman hesitantly.

She smells like salt and some sort of almost floral scent. Which should be impossible. But then again- I don’t know what grows under the ocean and I’ve hardly been deep enough to know what scents are possible. And again- I don’t even know what part of the ocean they are from. The scent could be anything.

She leans down, locking eyes with me- not knowing what else to do, I strengthen my resolve and stare back at her. “Aha.” She says, smiling. “Blue eyes. You’ve got the sea in you. No wonder you’re so brave." She pats my head and leans back up. “Shall we?”

I’m not sure what to make of our encounter.

And I’m not sure what it says about me that when she came close I thought I was going to be struck. Or.. something else.

Some adults seem to only want other _things_ from me. I try not to focus on that as it seems to be just how some people work. Master says dwelling on such instances leads to weakness, falsehoods, and disobedience. The last of which Master takes the greatest offense to. 

The group of sea people move past me, seemingly unphased by the rain and the wind.

I am not sure if this is a description that fits but they seem.. Otherworldly. Unreal.

And I swear, if only for a moment, the further they move from the ocean- the quieter it becomes. 

Orien urges me forward and we all start our small trek back to the compound- our ocean guests speaking in a language I am not familiar with.

To my surprise, however, Sasha can converse with them.   
She's never told me she knows how to speak to sea people before.   
  
I feel as if that's knowledge I should have known somehow. 

Perhaps she can teach me? 

Then we could have conversations with Orien overhearing us. 

When we get past the gates, they take the side entrance to the compound, straight into Remus’s quarters. I guess that makes sense. They are here to see her.

I don’t understand why she wouldn’t go and get them herself though.

Her actions are always very vexing.

And honestly, I get the impression that she doesn’t care for me.

I don’t know why exactly, Master never orders me to do things against her, necessarily. And she lives in his compound- seemingly immune from most of his orders, but still following some form of etiquette.

As with most of the adults who don’t like me, I try to keep on guard when she’s about.

Tonight? I do believe she’ll be okay with me joining her and her guests- seeing as I helped retrieve them, after all. And I’m oh so brave.

Besides, I have so much more to ask.   
And at this point, seeing what I have- I don't want my answers to come second hand. 

Sasha looks over her shoulder as they move away- her face giving nothing yet everything away. 

Does she wish for me to follow?   
  
Her face looked as if she might... 

But maybe I'm misreading it?   
NO- no. I want to continue to talk to the sea people. Maybe find out just what they're doing here, so far from the bottom of the sea, to see Remus. 

Our compound is shaped much like a "U" in the sense that there are two separate wings housed in two separate buildings, one on each side of the compound- which houses one right next to one gated wall and one to the other- facing each other across the dirt courtyard with its large trees.   
  
The arena is housed in the middle of the two wings- a hallway that runs between them. Then, in the center of that hallway- there is another hallway that leads into a larger (wider) building that runs the entire length of the back fence- edge to edge. 

So I guess the building is more of a U with a small I and then a vertical block of building along the back fence. 

It's quite hard to comprehend actually because by some trick no one ever sees the entire thing at one time. And never from above- some force grounds everyone while in here- so there's no actual way to measure how big the compound is. 

Ah- I'm distracted again.   
  
I watch the Sea People move further and further away from me- climbing the three short steps up into the doorway of Remus's quarters. 

While I will go to Sasha's quarters at times, I will never go into Remus's unless invited.   
  
However, I think she'll let me stay tonight.   
  
I have a really good feeling.

Deciding to try my chances on the subject, I go to follow them into the side door- but Orien grabs me by the back of my shirt. “The deal was you could see the sea folk. Not pester them.” the tone of her voice is much harsher now. As if heading back into the compound was something she didn’t want to do.

Which makes no sense to me. I thought she wanted to come home.

It’s as if as soon as she hit the gates she became burdened by some unknown thing.

I exhale slowly. “I understand.”

I absolutely do NOT understand.  
I want to continue to see the Sea People.  
I have things to ask them, after all.

I ready myself for when Orien lets me go.  
This is a simple trick that she somehow _always_ falls for.

“Do you?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

I nod.

I don’t necessarily want to upset her… but I will not stand here and take the full brunt of whatever poor mood she’s in.

When given the chance, I would like to avoid people who will fuss at me. I don’t like being yelled at any more than any other child my age would- no matter how mature I am. Seeing as I don't like being yelled at honestly, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her what my next action will be.

“Good-” The second she lets me go, I take off at a full sprint- heading to Remus’s living quarters without a second thought. I hear Orien cry in surprise behind me.

Master was right- I am a runner.

I can still faintly smell the floral scent I picked up from the one woman- so I track it.  
Right outside Remus’s living quarters. Separated by a mere paper wall.

The view into the rooms is obstructed by the walls- but you can see light shine against them.  
I’d imagine Remus has some sort of lamps- which is odd as more than half of the compound still relies on fires and torches.

I think that’s just something Master hasn’t got around to phasing out just yet.

I stop outside the door of Remus’s great room, peeking in. This room changes from week to week, I believe. I always hear Sasha talk about rearranging it and every time I manage to see it in person, it’s drastically shifted. Tonight, the room is warm and humid- three large wooden tubs are set up in a horizontal row, each filled to the brim with water. Around the room are small couches and oversized, overstuffed, large chairs.

It honestly looks like she’s expecting more company than just these three.

The sea folk are seated in the wooden bathing tubs- I guess needing the water. Remus sits at the front of the room, sitting on a couch wearing absolutely nothing.

The sight does not bother me. I’ve seen Remus naked a million times over at this point in my life. Her muscles are toned- looking more athletic than most of the other women I’ve seen naked. Where they strive to be as small as possible (it seems) she seems to strive to be strong. She’s always been beautiful but… it’s a cold beauty. Her bodily proportions seem like something other women would strive for- yet I think it’s simply just how she’s built. While she does do several very physical activities to gain more strength- I never see her dieting or anything that the other women around me do.

Orien says Remus is ‘blessed with a body that could bring a man to his knees’.  
To be honest, I’ve always wanted to have that kind of power over people. It’s hard to cultivate at my current age as I don’t know how I’ll look when I’m older. I do recognize the power that beauty holds. I doubt Remus is given a hard time about anything.

While her being nude is of no consequence to me- The sea folk seem to like it very much. Even the women.

The conversation they’re having seems to stop suddenly.

Remus turns her head slightly- staring straight at me.

I swallow a lump in my throat- unsure of what to do. I’m caught- obviously. And Remus has been known to throw a punch or two- if she chooses to punish me I guess I would get in more trouble if I were to run.

And it’s not as if I can pretend that she didn’t see me.

She turns back to her guests. “I always enjoy entertaining.” She says, somewhat randomly. “And, Look. I even included our own little spy around the corner there.” She says, taking a sip of wine. “You might as well come in, child. We know you’re there.”She glances at my feet. "Christ. You're tracking mud everywhere." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Stop right there." She says as I come partially into the room. "I don't want your filthy feet to destroy my flooring." 

Everyone’s attention turns to me as she scolds me. 

“Little one." The man greets. "I was wondering if you would be joining us. Seeing as you are oh so brave." He smirks.

"Brave," Remus repeats. "Stupidly so at times." She sighs, looking me over. "I suppose all children are." 

"Ah, but this one says he's not a child." One of the women says, smiling warmly. 

"So my brother would have us believe," Remus says somewhat darkly. 

"He almost fell into the ocean when meeting us." The man looks me up and down. "He is, for what it's worth, a very brave little boy." 

"Seeing as he is my brother's newest... ward," Remus says- watching me carefully. "He has to be." 

"Your brother has a great many misconceptions when it comes to child-rearing, I take it." One of the women says.   
  
"Rearing? No, no." Remus waves her hand through the air. "Romulus does not 'rear'. He sharpens. That child is a tool." 

That stings a little to hear her say that. 

The man clucks his tongue. "Such a shame, my dear, that he should be granted with such a spirited, brave, little one when you have been deemed-" 

"I would rather us talk of that subject at another time." Remus cuts him off. 

The man holds his hands up. "Pardon." 

Remus nods- her long hair falling over her shoulders as she leans forward- retrieving a long, slender cigarette in a delicate, slender, long, holding device from the floor and a matchbook. She places the cigarette contraption between her two fingers- sticking the match and lighting it while not looking at anyone. "So, little thing." She says, exhaling smoke. "What do you want?" 

I find myself suddenly the object of focus by four adults (or adult-like creatures) and stumble over my word- stuttering and then barley managing to give her a shrug.   
  
At my nonverbal response, Remus shakes her head. Already dismissing me. "Speak, child." She growls. 

I want to know why she doesn't like me.   
All the other adults will at least tell me.   
Remus? Remus doesn't.   
  
I haven't done anything her- ever. 

Never raised a hand.   
Never really spoken out of turn. 

Why does she hate me so? 

"Such a curious little thing.” The man remarks. “I bet he has many a question.”

“So small.” One of the women says, closing her eyes and relaxing into her water.

“Small, curious, and fast,” Remus says. Her tone is flat. “I suppose one could say he’s got eyes all over the compound.” She turns back to me. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, little boy?”

I find myself nodding. “I wanted to see if there were actual sea people,” I admit- finally speaking. 

“Unlikely.” Remus chuckles cooly. “I suppose your actual purpose is one of gathering information…. Did my brother send you to spy on me?”

“No. I came on my own.”I say quickly. "I'm not a spy." 

“Really?” She asks.

I nod.

"And you came on your own... without prompting from any outside party?" 

I look down at my feet. "Sasha told me about the sea people," I say quietly. "I just wanted to see them." 

"My guests are not animals and this is not a menagerie," Remus says cooly. "I find it hard to believe you've come to this sudden interest of yours with no prompting from outside forces." 

She thinks I'm spying for Master- but I don't think he would bother sending a spy.   
He knows everything already. 

"No prompting," I say. "Really."

"You came on your own, then?"

I nod. "Really." 

I feel so small underneath the adult's gaze.

Remus watches me for a few seconds before nodding to herself. “Then you can leave on your own.” She turns her head and snaps her fingers. “Sasha!" She calls. "Send the boy away.”

I don't know why she's being so cold- so cruel.   
  
"I didn't do anything!" It is out of my mouth before I can stop it. 

Remus looks at me as if I've grown another head. "Excuse me?" 

Sasha comes from another side of the room and takes me by the shoulder.

"I didn't do anything!" I repeat as I try to move from Sasha's grip. "You don't need to send me away- I didn't do anything!" 

Remus stands to her feet- towering over me. "I am sending you away because this is my room, my space, and I do as I please with it." She says- her voice is scary but her eyes... so black, so deep- seem to be conveying something else. "You truly are a brave little boy." She says, as if in thought. 

I find myself looking at the floor intently, submissive. 

Remus lifts my chin with her finger- making me look at her. "There may be hope for you yet." She says, keeping eye contact before turning to Sasha. "Take him away. Now."   
  
Sasha takes hold of my arm and starts to push me out of the room. 

"Do not let me catch you skulking around in my doorway tonight or any other night," Remus says as we're leaving. "If I want you, I will call for you." 

As Sasha and I are moving, I hear the sea people laugh.   
  
I feel both hot and cold at the same time.   
Fearful more than anything.   
  
I was too bold with Remus.   
If she tells Master I will be in pain for days.   
  
Perhaps... he will find it humorous that I took such a stand against her? 

Sasha guides me through the house, patting my back as we walk across the courtyard to the other side of the compound- stopping at the side door to the kitchen. “Off you go.”

I stare at her. "Is Remus going to tell Master-"   
  
"I doubt it," Sasha says quietly. 

I feel a sense of unease I'm not comfortable with. "If she does-"   
  
Sasha stares at me for a long moment. "Remus is not the thing or person you should be concerned about." 

I glance up at her. "Wh-"   
  
She just shakes her head. "Go on, scaredy-cat." She gestures to the house. "You're covered in mud, you're soaked, and you're out past your curfew." She smiles a little. 

I nod. "I'll see you in the morning, then." 

Sasha looks away. "You might." 

She lets me go and walk back to her side of the compound- leaving me cold and confused.   
  
I 'might' see her tomorrow? I've seen her every day for the last year or so. 

If one were to take this at face value they might chalk this up to misinterpretation- but Sasha is someone who can see the future.   
  
Her saying she 'might' see me tomorrow may very mean that she has seen something that will hint that I will not be seen tomorrow. 

After angering Remus and Sasha's 'warning' I'm not sure what to do.   
  
I do not want to enter the compound, however.   
  
Perhaps I'll run to the stables.   
  
I'm already out. And Master would not know for a small-time where I had gone. 

I'm turning away from the door just as some animal makes a loud noise from behind me- we're backed against the forest- it is not usual, but it spooks me. 

I quickly walk into the kitchen- trying to focus on settling my heart- which feels like it's trying to beat out of my chest.  
  
Something is wrong.   
  
Tonight started so well and now? Now I just feel like I'm about to be in some sort of danger.   
  
..Well, more so than usual. 

I look around the room in a panic, jumping again when the door shuts loudly behind me.   
  
"Well then??" One of the cook's barks with her back turned to me. "Are you coming in or are you sleeping outside?" 

"I'm-" 

"And I suppose you'll be expecting something to eat, hmm? I should have been done with my chores an hour AGO!" She fusses. "But I've been waiting for you- you little brat. Want me to read you the menu, hmm? Make you some sweet and balanced? I suppose you'll want something warm, hmm?

I stand in the doorway, my wet shirt starting to stick to my back. 

"Well let me tell you-" The cook turns to me and her already angry face goes red. "Why on god's green earth are you standing on my clean floor with muddy feet?" She growls. 

"I-" 

"You're caked in it! Did you go roll with pigs- you little beast?" 

"No-"   
  
"Roll around in the barn like a fucking animal and then tried to come in my kitchen? I do not serve barn animals, brat." 

Her usually pale face is red and she has a vein throbbing on her forehead.   
She's dressed in a white and gray dress with a large white apron around her waist.   
  
She's from a village nearby. She's not always here.   
I guess you could say she's lucky. 

She moves over to me. "And where are your shoes???" She orders. 

I stare at the floor, taking into account the mess I’m making. “I couldn’t find them,” I say, raising my head. "I need a new pair." 

"Is that so???" She asks. "Well, why didn't you say so when you came in? I'll get my magic little helper elves to make you up a pair right away!" 

I hang my head. I did not want to get yelled at tonight. 

“Go bathe.” The woman growls. "Now. I don't let barn animals in my kitchen and I do not give them food." She crosses her arms. "If you want to eat, come back in the morning when you're ready to behave as a human." 

I bow to her, as I go to take a step. I'm surprised once again as I’m grabbed up from behind- being held off the ground for quite a few moments. “If he walks himself there, he’ll just make a bigger mess,” Orien says, having come in the door behind me unnoticed due to the cooks angry yelling. “I will handle him from here.”

“Be sure that you do.” The cook says. “Constantly cleaning up after this child. You are a thoughtless beast.” She says pointing a finger to me.

“I’m-”

“Thoughtless. Careless. Selfish. Dirty. Impolite. Hot-headed. Stupid.”

I lower my head.

“If you get mud on my clean floors again- I’m burning the soles of your feet with a hot iron.” She says, menacingly. "And don't think I won't do it. Your Master as more than given me the right." 

That sounds like something I would not want so I nod quickly.

Especially if Master told her she could do it. 

“So long as we have an understanding.”

Orien takes me to one of the bathrooms I do not usually use. This one is fairly more modern than my usual bathing room and I find the change jostling.

The woman moves me through the room- not letting my feet touch the floor- and throws me in the tub with my clothes on. I sputter as water violently enters my nose.

This isn't one of the wooden tubs- so the impact my elbows make against the porcelain is acutely painful. 

“You truly are a careless little beast, aren't you?” She says as she goes about procuring soaps and shampoos. 

“I just wanted to see-”

“Yes, yes, yes- we’ve heard. Curiosity killed the cat- you know. Have you heard that before? You go on all of these intrigues and they lead to nothing but pain.” She shakes her head. "How can we keep you safe, child, if you won't let us??" 

Keep me safe?   
Since when does Orien care about keeping me safe? 

“I just want to know things,” I say sourly. "I don't see anything wrong with knowing things. Everyone wants to know things." 

I sit up in the tub- wrapping my arms around my knees as they're pulled up to my chest.  
  
The water is warm- at least that makes this interaction not completely terrible.   
I am curious as to why I haven't taken off my clothing yet... but I suppose that's because it's dirty as well. 

Perhaps Orien is trying to create less of a mess to clean?

Orien shakes her head. “You know too much as is.”

I greatly disagree with that.  
There’s always more one can learn.

At least that’s what Master always says.

I get the feeling, as I often do, that Orien doesn’t care much for Master, his teachings, or following his rules.

She has a look in her eyes that I can’t believe I haven’t noticed until now.

It's a dead giveaway. 

Something is wrong. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask her. "You look... odd." 

She raises an eyebrow. “Wash,” she says, voice much calmer than it was. 

She smells… odd. Shameful. Guilty.

Her movements are jerky and harsh- as if she doesn’t want to be doing any of this at all.

I think if I'm scenting her correctly, that she's somehow gotten ahold of some alcohol within the short time between our last interaction. 

My suspicion is confirmed when she pulls a small metal flask out of her shirt and tilts it back. 

I don't know why she would be drinking at this time.   
  
Perhaps to help her sleep?   
  
Sometimes they give me alcohol to help me sleep.   
  
Well- she does.   
I hardly think Master approves of the practice. Though, whether he does or not- he does allow it to take place. 

If she's drinking- Maybe she’s tired? She said she was earlier.

I don’t imagine she’s gotten any less tired during the night's proceedings.

Though it is hard to miss the fact that she’s far more upset than when our interactions started earlier today.

She moves around the bathroom quietly- face turning into a mask of pure concern, disturbance, and guilt.

I know why adults wear this look- as I’ve seen it time and time again.

An order has undoubtedly been sent from the top. Orien is trying her best to delay the process.

That's what Sasha was trying to warn me about. 

That means the order involves me.

This means that in some capacity- I am expecting to be in some amount of pain tonight. I wish Orien would trust me enough to let me know these things. I think our relationship would flourish if given the tiniest bit of trust between the two of us.

Our bathroom is small- a large porcelain tub pushed against the back wall- next to a wooden wall with a large window set in it- at my current height, the edge of the window just barely reaches my head. It’s extremely impractical for taller people and therefore usually has some sort of curtain blocking it.

Tonight- it’s open. I see the rain slowly coming to a stop. The moon shines bright. You could almost call it ‘serene”.

To the other side of the bathroom is a cabinet with all of the soaps and shampoos. I don’t require much shampoo as I don’t have a lot of hair- I mean, it runs down the center of my head- but most of the time it doesn’t have much length to it. I suppose when I’m older I can experiment with growing it out some.

There’s a smaller shelf beneath the horrible white painted cabinet- it holds the usual soaps and shampoos- the ones for everyday use.

The cabinet holds the ones that are not so much used on a day to day basis. Usually when you have somewhere important to go or someone important to see.

Master has a peculiar set of scents he wants us to use when he requires us to spend prolonged time around him at certain parts of the day.

I think that is a nice way to say that if you are in his actual quarters he doesn’t want any foul scents that can linger on his bedding.

It’s a simple request really.

However, when Orien is pacing by the cabinet seeming torn on what to do- I become slightly worried.

Perhaps nights like tonight are something I should see coming.   
And even now, I hold suspicions of what may be coming- but I refuse to breathe life into them. 

This woman cares for me to some extent- I know it. If something bad is going to happen- she will tell me. 

And even if she doesn't, when it happens I'll know anyway. 

If she tells me, though, I have a chance to prepare for it. 

“Orien, what’s wrong?” I ask again.

The woman's odd eyes turn to me and she shakes her head. “This job,” she says. “This fucking job.” She throws the metal flask on the floor- causing a loud 'ping' as it makes an impact. "Fucking job," she repeats. 

She walks to the sink by the door and retrieves her pack of cigarettes and a matchbook- placing both in her pockets.

“Are you unhappy?” I try to pry.

For one, I don’t think I would like to see someone so obviously upset when I do not know what they are upset about and two, I am more and more increasingly worried about the woman’s mental state at the moment.

I am not allowed to harm her. Not without higher orders to do so- so I really can’t stop her if she tries to hurt me.

She shakes her head again. “Unhappy.” She repeats .”Yes. I am. I am, very, very..”She watches me for a second. "Unhappy." 

I watch her even more carefully. “I can finish up here myself.” I offer. “You can go to bed.”

Orien stares at the ceiling- mouthing words I do not understand. She seems to gather herself together before going into the higher shelf of the poorly painted cabinet. "You could be so much." I hear her whispering. "If not here." 

Slowly things start to make sense to me.

She brings out a shampoo that we don’t use for everyday use.

Her turmoil now makes complete sense.

Orien is not mad at me. She’s guilty.

I watch it in anticipation.

I now know exactly how my master expects me to repay him for his kindness. And why Orien is so… moody tonight.

“Your master requests your services tonight.” She says quietly. “You should smell somewhat decent- don’t you think? You should most definitely not track mud into his quarters, at any rate.”

Oh hell. I’d rather entertain the sea people. Telling my master ‘no’ is not an option though.

I manage to take my wet clothes off and wash them. Orien moves by the window, lighting a cigarette.

I take my time in getting clean- trying to avoid her eyes.

She smokes her cigarette down until the burning cherry reaches her fingers- the index and middle finger that she oh so daintily perches it between. Her fingers are long and boney. Yet- somehow slender and elegant at the same time.

While I’m washing, she grounds the butt of the cigarette out into the wooden windowsill above my head. While I take my time, she lights another.

The room is heavy with the smell of smoke. If she doesn’t ease off of it or open the window- I’ll smell more like smoke than soap. I don’t think anyone would be happy about that.

“You pay a heavy price.” She says quietly- somewhat unexpectedly.

I honestly don’t know how to respond.

She takes a deep drag of her cigarette, letting the smoke go slowly. “One that is paid time and time again… but never by those who should be paying it.” She leans forward and opens the window over my head- letting her smoke escape into the night. The sweet night air coming in clears my sense of the harsh tobacco smoke. “I hardly imagine you even understand exactly what you’re doing. And, of course,” she chuckles darkly, “We’re not allowed to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I ask.

Orien shakes her head. “Too much to put on someone so young.”

I get the feeling that she’s not talking to me- more so, about me.

I’m not completely clueless. I know Master’s demands are harsh and somewhat cruel… but I’ve always been of the assumption that Master requires this of all of his followers. However, it seems Orien doesn’t know that.

Perhaps he doesn’t care for her?

Honestly, she is somewhat beautiful but she’s so mean sometimes that I wouldn’t call her desirable. That and she can hit hard. I suppose Master may just not want to deal with her.

Not that I think she would dare try to hit him… but maybe he assumes she’s not worth the trouble.

A silence grows between us.

I can tell she’s feeling guilty… but I don’t necessarily know why.

It’s not like she even likes me. She tolerates me but is never truly someone I would consider a friend or ally.

If Sasha were to express concerns I would understand.

But even she, though she’s the person I’m closest to in both age and emotion, doesn’t talk about this. Not to me. Not to anyone. I’ve been told by other parties that if she says something, she could very well take my place. And that she doesn’t want to- at all.

I can’t say that I blame her.  
Though that bit of information did hurt.

This is what her warning was. Or her attempted warning. She didn't say one way or the other and her visions are often very open-ended. She's given a few options but doesn't know which one will play out. That's why she doesn't tell people unless they specifically ask her to. Her just knowing the outcomes of all these differences would be events puts a dangerous, unpredictable spin on the situation. 

She may very well know just every outcome of my looming encounter with Master. 

And maybe, now is the time to be preparing myself for something unpleasant. 

Master’s demands are painful. But, that is how it is and that is how it has been and until I am old and ready to carry out every order without question- that is how it will be.

I have to go through my own process of rationalizing these types of events.

Everyone pays someone. From the people at the bottom to some of the people at the top. Of course, the one at the top of the top doesn’t pay anything as they are the person that makes the entire system work.

Master is god.

Everyone pays someone and that someone pays someone and eventually they pay him. And the world goes on.

Some pay with blood, some with their body, some with the servitude, some with a sacrifice of their own flesh and blood. It’s a tithe. A sacrifice that we all perform to show our Master that we are grateful for his presence in everything we do.

His demands are uncouth to some- I’m sure. But, we owe him more than we could ever set an actual monetary value to. His empire is vast and expanding- all where it’s just out of sight. The things he requires for the empire to thrive are the things that his loyal followers must provide.

Besides, if one were to become a disruption to the order- they would be dealt with most fatally and painfully.

It is far better to be in the system and pain than to be out of the system and dead.

Anything is better than dead.

I have to accept my role just as much as Orien has to accept hers.

I don’t like it and I wish it were different…. But we do not get to make those decisions.

There’s a now uncomfortable silence that grows between us.

All I can hear is her accelerated heartbeat and her small inhales and exhales as she smokes.

She’s always been one to feel guilty on these nights... but never like this.

That worries me.

What does she know … that I don’t?

“On these nights,” She says into the silence, her voice dark and full of something even I don’t understand. “I dream of drowning you.”

I stay completely quiet.

I’ve heard adults talk about my death in passing before. But never one in this close of proximity to me and THIS upset.

“Because there’s not a damn thing I can do to save you. No one can.” She says. “Not a single fucking one of us.”

I know her thoughts on this. 

I’m not the biggest fan of it myself.

But it makes me stronger. It makes my mind clearer. I learn more.

“This isn’t right.” She says. “This isn’t supposed to happen. I can’t take you to him- I can’t do it. I can’t willingly be a part of this anymore. It’s not right. The guilt is driving me mad.”

I watch her carefully- almost afraid to move. When someone says they’re going ‘mad’, you being completely naked in a body of water may not be the best of situations to be in. And even though I have claws- I’m not in a very good position to defend myself at the moment.

“You don’t even know what he’s taking from you.” She says, turning to me. “You don’t understand what it means to have these things taken- to have these very adult decisions made for you.”

I guess I don’t.

I do know enough, however, to not interrupt adults when they’re this upset.

“You could have ended up anywhere. Any fucking where. But you’re here. Now.” She shakes her head. “Until meeting you, child, I selfishly thought that I was the most unlucky person to ever have lived.” She turns back to the window. “I was wrong.”

I slowly move further back from her- until my back is firmly pressed against the wall.

“I can’t save you,” she repeats, more to herself.

“I know,” I say quietly.

“But you do understand… that you’re not supposed to go through this- don’t you?”

I shake my head. “We do what we have to do.”

Her eyes are watery when she turns back to me. “Yes. Yes, you would say that- wouldn’t you? It’s what he wants you to say. And you do what he wants you to do. Without question.”

I… guess so. Once again- I don’t have a response.

"You shouldn't," she says. "You shouldn't let others think for you- do you understand? You shouldn't give them your name. You shouldn't let them hurt you in any way. No one." 

I am genuinely confused at this point. "That's not how this works," I say quietly. 

"How it works? And you know how it works, hmm?" She scoffs. "At ten. You know what thousands of adults don't know. You've just figured it out!" She motions with her arms- spreading them wide and gesturing to the whole room. "You are a sacrifice, child," She says. "You are some little lost lamb being fed to the wolves. And you go- willingly. And it kills me. It kills me." She pats her chest- hard- turning away from me. 

I could almost blame her sudden outbursts on the alcohol. But... though I don't let my mind dwell here often or for long, I do understand somewhat of what she's saying.   
To any outsider, these events seem wrong.   
And maybe they are.   
  
But... 

"We do what we have to do," I whisper. 

She shakes her head. “Child… I cannot save you. Remus, Sasha- anyone of us- cannot save you. But...you could save yourself.” She says, taking a puff of her forgotten cigarette. “If you were to run. Run fast. And hide. Hide with anyone who will harbor you.”

“Orien…”

To run? That’s certain death.

Even if I don't like what's going to happen- if I don't agree with what the adults say- It's better to be here and miserable than dead.   
Anything is better than dead. 

To betray my Master...   
To just... leave. Untrained. 

She turns to me, with tears in her eyes- which chill me to the bone. “Be a smart boy.” She says darkly. “Run. Trust me.” She says, eyes wide.“At this point, knowing what I know, I am the only person who will look out for you. You need to run. If you stay... “ She pauses. “You will not live to see the morning. Not in one piece.”

That… worries me. Because Sasha's attitude and warning seem to stand out in my mind more clearly than ever. 

Sasha may not see me tomorrow... because I may not be here tomorrow. 

Master...wouldn’t kill me- would he?

I serve him as best as I can.   
I fail- but that is to be expected.   
  
I'm still little. 

No- not little. He doesn't allow me to say that.   
I'm younger. 

Master surely isn't upset enough to actually do away with me... is he? 

“Why do you say that?” I ask, panic racing through my veins. 

“Because,” She hisses. “You’ve become something that both parties want. And when they are fighting over something- your Master will destroy it long before he’ll let his sister lay hands on it.”

“No-”

“When the twins fight- people die,” Orien says. “People like you, child. Someone who’s been dragged in between them. You have to understand that you are not a person, in their eyes. You are a pawn. A toy. An item. Your master has not invested nearly enough time into you for him to not consider tossing you aside or damaging you to make a point. There are other children with powers similar to yours- some almost exact copies. You are not the only one he has lined up and you will not inherit what he is promising you.”

“That's not true,” I argue. “That can’t be true.”

When she says these things- so much makes sense. 

So much that I don't want to make sense.   
So much that I spend night and night again forcing into silence in my mind. 

It can't be true. 

But... it is. 

I know. She knows it. Master knows it. 

“Remus would take you in a heartbeat. Take you and go as far away from here as possible.” She says. “And to be honest, her intentions are not always as pure and good as they may sound on paper. But she would do it this very moment to take you away from her brother. Should the two of them decide to battle it out- you do not comprehend how damaged you will become.”

“Remus doesn’t even like me…” I say, trying to make sense of it. “No one really likes me… but I don’t think Master would hurt me without reason.”I say. “He’s cruel at times but he promised-”

“His promises mean nothing," Orien says. “Don’t you understand? Everything he says is a lie.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” I ask cautiously.

Orien turns to me. “Why would I lie?”

“You don’t want me to stay,” I say. “You don’t like me enough-”

“Your master is going to harm you in a way you do not understand,” Orien says, cutting me off. “That no one will understand. I am telling you, as the one person on this godforsaken earth that actually cares about you, to run. Do you understand me? Run. I’ve checked the way out of the compound when we went to the docks- tonight the idiots who are in charge are drunkenly trying to gain access to Remus’s quarters. Remus herself will be too preoccupied. Your master is in a completely different area of the compound. If you do not run now, you will not get another chance. And I will not bury a child.” she says before adding quietly, “not again.”

“Again?” I ask, confused.

“You are not your master’s first try at this, child.” she hisses. “Do you know why his ‘methods’ are so effective?”

I feel my eyes sting slightly- unsure of what to do with this current emotion.

“Because he’s practiced them until they were perfect.” She says. “You are not his first ‘boy’ and you are probably not his only, either. You need to run. Trust me, okay? Just run. Please.”

I’m shocked. Really shocked.

“If I leave I’ll die,” I say, stunned.

Orien closes her eyes. “If you stay you will suffer a fate worse than death. The choice is yours but.. please. Please. Be a smart boy.”

That honestly scares me greatly.

Because I have seen what Master can do. And to be honest, he has never once promised to not do the same to me.

But…

“Where do I go?” I ask- not even wanting to believe that I am even thinking of doing as she says. The consequences will be awful- truly. If I run and I'm found- I'm as good as dead.

But... if Orien is THIS frightened- something truly must be wrong.

“Anywhere.” She reaches down and pulls a towel from the floor. “Here.” She holds it out to me- wrapping me up carefully and drying my body as quickly as she can.

When I’m a decently dry, she hands a bundle of clothing to me- complete with my boots that were missing this morning.

“Go south.” She says. “You’ll be harder to track.” Within the bundle of clothes is a small bag of money. “Watch who sees you.” She says. “Watch where you go. Use that to buy yourself boarding and food. Then tomorrow- get on a boat. Any boat. Get as far away from here as you can. Above all else, do not tell a single soul where you’ve come from- do you understand? Don’t mention your master’s name, the compound, or anyone within. If you see a face that looks familiar in any way- no matter how small- leave. Understood?”

I dress in the warm cotton clothing, pulling my boots on. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”I ask. “Why not before?”

Orien closes her eyes. “I just am. Now hurry. Do as your told. Tell no one where you’re going.”

I go to move past her, stopping when she puts her hand on my shoulder. “Watch your back.” She says. “At all times. Your master’s reach is global and you are in more danger than you can imagine.”

I pocket the money she’s given me and nod to her, taking off through the servants quarters and making it to the front entrance of the compound.

I don’t understand why exactly I’m going with this… and I have a distinct longing for my own bed. But… Orien wouldn’t have risked what she’s risking if there wasn’t an actual danger.

And I honestly have no desire to join my Master in his bed tonight.

If there’s a small chance to get away- I think I owe it to myself to at least try.

What Orien said was frightening. And I think she knew more than she was saying.

There are no guards at the front gate- like Orien said.

We usually have very lax security anyway. No one is trying to come in and no one is stupid enough to try to get out.

That is, until tonight.

I saw my sea people. And I know what my master wants of me. All I have to do is stay away until he calms down.

I may not even have to run too far.

If he calms down and realizes how much he needs me- perhaps the danger will just… go away?

Maybe when I’m older I’ll come back to finish my training.

I open the heavy gates- using every ounce of strength within me.

There’s someone with a flashlight walking over in my direction- hearing the gates open I assume.

I take off through the heavy wooden barriers- running into the forest.

The moon is bright and full and the ground is wet- saturated almost.

Every sound in the forest is amplified.  
I look to each animal I pass with a wide-eyed curiosity.

To get to town I need to take the main road- but If I stay on the main road I’ll surely be caught- so I spend close to an hour running through the brush and heavy greenery.

I make it to the outskirts of town- seeing no one on the road or walking about.

The road is paved here, I walk down it, carefully watching my surroundings.

I smell people- but I don’t see them.

I wind my way through town- watching all the signs.

There’s a hotel down the street- at least that’s what Orien would call a hotel.

It’s small- only a flat collection of buildings that serve as rooms surrounding a small wooden hut.

I go inside the main building and wait at a very small desk- ringing a bell until an elderly woman comes to see what I want.

She curses when she sees. “What do you want?” she asks- rudely.

I tell her that I need a room and she curls her upper lip. “You have money, then?” She’s talking in English- I suppose assuming I’m a foreigner. I speak English fine, of course, but I find myself a little upset that she doesn’t seem to understand that I am in fact Japanese- As I’ve lived here my entire life. I reach into the sack Orien gave me and show her what I’ve got.

The woman looks me over, curious. “Did you steal it?” She asks- her accent thick.

“No.” My accent has been fading quickly- though I think she can still hear it somewhat. “I’m waiting for my mother,” I say. “She told me to get a room. She’s a few days away and I got here first.’

The woman eyes me suspiciously before shrugging. “Money is money.” She mutters, retrieving a key and taking the money.

I don’t bother counting it- I don’t imagine I’ll need it for long. If there is one thing I'm good at it’s managing to find a way to get away with as little outside help as possible.

The room I’m shown to is dark and musty smelling. The bathroom appears to have some kind of leak.

But… there’s a small bed and the door locks.

I nod to the woman and thank her before closing the door and being sure to lock it.

Of course, If master himself were to chase me, a locked door would do me no good.

However, I’m only going to be here for a night and I doubt he’s even noticed I’m gone yet.

If I were still one for prayers or some foolish notion, I suppose I would say one for Orien- hoping she survives this horrible risk she’s taken for me.

I just spend a small amount of time thinking about her- hoping she’s able to get away as well, before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.


	4. Submit (Romulus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeeeey y'all!  
I know I broke all my update outlines but....  
I made this! 
> 
> So yea.  
Romulus chapter- which is a very strange sort of writing experience in their own right. Like- he's awful. But writing from his point of view is a huge stretch for me and I find it very challenging!
> 
> So, there is rampant abuse mentioned- not really shown.  
There is torture spoken of.  
Lots of sociopathic/psychopathic internal dialogue.  
Many examples of hating women- very expressively  
Sibling drama  
Child abuse.  
An instance of heavily implied sexual abuse of a child (though it is not gone into at all, there's a blackout and then it picks up the morning after, however, for about four lines- it is implied VERY heavily.)  
Mental terror  
Violence  
....and that's it?  
Romulus is obviously not a very nice man. So he does some pretty awful shit. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
Obviously these chapters aren't pleasant- but they are really interesting to write. It takes a while for these though because after a full ten year fic career of writing whump- Romulus is really the first time I've flipped the narrative to the aggressor/abuser. As such, it can really wear me out.  
Being so awful- just for writing purposes, makes me really tired. BUT it is very interesting. So... catch 22, I guess. 
> 
> So if you'd like, please feel free to leave a comment or a kudos!  
And again, (and as always) thank y'all so much for reading.

There is a commonly held belief that the only way to remove a snakes venom from a wound is to suck it out.

However common this belief may be, I disagree with it full-heartedly. My reason being that if you’ve already been bitten then what’s the point or removing the venom?

If you had the wits to begin with then you wouldn’t have been bitten because there wouldn’t be a snake. If you were to have killed the snake in the first place- there would be no poison. No bite. No wound.

If you are suffering because of your lack of foresight then there is nothing anyone should do to help you. You have proven yourself to be weak-minded. If you were to die off from this mishap of your own creation, the world would be all the better.

Snakes are easy to kill, after all. Perhaps hard to anticipate- I admit. But they still conform to one simple fact of life and nature that almost all things follow. Which is simply that most creatures will die if you remove the head from their useless shoulders.

Go beyond the fore-planning that you should have had- far before this incident occurred. There is so much you can do to rectify this future issue. Just as you seek to stop the venom from killing you- with enough thought, you can stop the venom that is the weakness of man from your life.

It’s hard. It takes discipline…. a trait with most people have completely forgotten.

If you stop the snake from entering your garden- there will be no bite.  
if you were to plan ahead- there would be no snake.  
If you were to plan far enough ahead- you could have even slaughtered the lot of snakes that would produce the one that would cause you so much grief.

Issues like this are far too simple. Violence is needed, of course, but it’s not unfair in the long scheme of things.  
That particular line of pests was going to produce something that would have tried to harm you. You are obligated to destroy that which would try to destroy you.

I’m not one for such trivial matters, however.

If you’re going to have a problem with pests in your crops, yards, or gardens, I find the best and most direct solution to be burning the entire lot down and building anew.

Humanity has grown out of these… more ‘extreme’ schools of thought. It’s grown weak. Complacent.

Walk into any given city and you will find perhaps only twenty or so logical, methodical, and necessarily hardened individuals.

There was a time when you could roam from town to town- country to county, kingdom to kingdom- collecting warriors. They would come to the aid of any leader they found worth leading. The crueler the better.

Cruelty is not done simply for pleasure- though I admit that I do take much pleasure in it myself, from time to time.  
No- cruelty is a necessity.

If you want your empire to grow- you must tend to it. Much like a garden, in a sense.

Weeding out the weaklings. Making the fences strong. Keep the rows and plots orderly and tamed. And, should the problem of snakes arise, you must be willing to send all your hard work down in flames. A message.

No- not a message.A promise.

A warning of what will come should your patience be tested.  
Should your… kindness be tested.

You allow these plants- weak saplings- into your space. You give them a home. You give them nourishment- you provide them the structure they need to survive. And what do they do? They turn it against you.

Should a man be judged by that which he has dominion over? Should any creature, man, woman, or child stand in defiance of the one to which they all owe their very existence?

I believe that I too have become a sort of complacent lately. I’ve not been tending to my plots and they have become overrun with deeply rooted weeds and snakes.

This is an issue I fully intend to rectify.

....Through flames or blood remains to be seen.

My compound should run efficiently. I should not be bothered by something this trivial this late at night. Not when I was expecting to be rewarded for all of my efforts.

As removed from mankind as I may be- I still often require a release. When it is denied to me- I take great offense.

I am not above man’s righteous anger at the refusal of having my wants and needs met. At least, not at this moment.

My young one seems to be of the mind that he gets to leave whenever he so desires. He seems to think that the attention I grant him makes him above the rules. Above his station.

So... the little idiot has run off.

He’s run off knowing that his keepers and myself can easily track him down. Which we will. I will spend the appropriate amount of time teaching the boy just why we do not behave this brashly.

One should not be too surprised at this very public show of stupidity. He is Logan’s offspring- after all. Stupidity and irrationality run through his veins just as much as his idiot of a father. If he can not overcome such a foolish way of thinking- then I will have to bleed him until he no longer houses the desire to partake in that particular genetic trait.

Should he wish to remain obstinate and troublesome- I will see what more I can do towards better ensuring his reform.

I am not deluded enough to believe that the child simply up and left of his own devices. He’s not that intelligent. Things were lined up ever too perfectly tonight. There is no way that he could have so easily just walked out the front gate if there had been no outside interference.

Someone within my walls has begun to openly plot against me.  
This is something that has to be stopped.

...By any means necessary.

This means, besides tracking the pestilent boy down, there’s another being within the walls of my abode that must be dealt with.

These people- servants- are replaceable.  
Everyone is. Period.

If I must cut each one of them down to discover the viper hidden amongst their ranks, then that is what I shall do.

My power is absolute.  
And these idiots should no better than to anger me.

But, these people somehow remain idiots- regardless of my influence on their lives.

By the end of the night- I want the wooden floors of my home coated in the blood of the traitor. And perhaps anyone who would stand with them.

There is little sense in sparing the life of someone so defiant.

The boy yes- though preferably not to the extreme of death.

But the traitors? his ‘helper’?  
Come sunrise they will be dead.  
There will be no exceptions.

I do not spare the lives of fools and I hold snakes in even less regard.

Everyone who’s been working the past five hours is lined up in the courtyard- trembling amid the downpour.

I care not for their comfort. Such things have no bearing on anything worthwhile.

I find the weather to add to the sinister air I am cultivating.

Even if they are innocent- this will be a night that none of these weaklings will forget any time soon.

The kitchen staff keeps their eyes on the dirt- Scared of any and everything. Most coming from an abusive background of some sort- making them more… sensitive. I do not choose anyone within these walls at random. I know where they come from and I know _what_ they come from.  
No interaction I have is ever truly meaningless.

The kitchen staff is more… expendable than most. Useless women- the lot of them.

Should my followers be as they should be- they wouldn’t require them from a day to day basis. They should be willing to fast as long as I tell them to.

...I suppose that will be a change I introduce in the following days.

To the left of the courtyard- I see my twin- wrapped in a thin robe and frowning. She is unsettled- I can see it on her face even from the distance.  
Good. She is right to be unsettled. She is right to be fearful.  
The woman will eventually submit to my control. Blood or no.

My patience with her is not unending… and she would do well to remember it.  
After all, I’m not against dragging her ‘company’ out here and questioning them as well.

If I were her, I would retreat into my chambers until the issue is sorted. I’ve no patience and am in a particularly foul mood.

My anger should be understood on all levels.  
My _wrath_ even more so.  
I shouldn’t have to inform these pathetic weaklings the reasons for my disdain for them.

It’s beneath me.

I don’t bother issuing any verbal commands or explanations as I stand in front of them, observing. The guilty party will become more frightened than the rest under my gaze. Their pulse will accelerate and their body posture will change. They’ll be so concerned with holding themselves normally that they will become stiff and rigid. On top of this, news of past inquires into my staff will be spreading amongst the weary lot in front of me. They will be frightened.

They will give up the traitor to save their own skins.  
It is the way of man.

The women are shivering and cowering beneath my gaze. The generals- less so. They keep their heads low- obedient and awaiting orders.  
They are placed here not as suspects but as enforcement. Should I require a mass show of physical violence to accompany my inquiry- they will deliver it at the slightest of nods.

Power is not something that can be measured solely by the actions of one’s person but by the actions of everyone around them.

I have no delusions or desires to be a ‘fair’ ruler.

I am not just.  
I am not compassionate.  
I am what I have always been and what I will continue to be.

The others are merely necessities that will be used until they are no longer of use.

If any of my staff is comfortable here then they are _sorely_ misinformed about the nature of what they are needed for.

With very little effort I could kill the entire lot and have them replaced come noon tomorrow.  
Older staff recognizes this. They are quiet and fearful.  
Younger members are less so.

These are the weeds that must be yanked by their roots. Pulled from the soil they were allowed to inhabit by my charity and thrown out. Preferably headless.

However, in that regard, we shall just have to see what the night brings.

The guilty party knows what they have done.  
And they will come forward.

If not within the next five minutes, then I will start to pick them off one by one.

We shall hope that there is only one snake in this garden. If there happens to be a nest then more extreme actions will be enforced.

Out of the women gathered in front of me- the one who seems to be the most ‘preoccupied ’ is the nanny.

Ah. Of course. I should have seen this.

Though I’ve forbidden her to gain any emotional attachment to the boy- she is weak. Human.  
And human women are naturally more emotional and far less rational than males.

As I move to the front of my collected group- she meets my gaze. Such a little sign of defiance. One could almost assume that it was an accident. But I am not a fool- and I know obstinance when I see it.

“Bring the nanny to the common room,” I instruct to my nearest general. “Send the rest of these hens back to their coop to await further instruction.”

I turn on my heel and head back towards the room I’ve requested she be brought into, stopping at one of my men posted outside the door. “When they bring the woman- restrain her. Keep her here. Stay in the room with her. Once she is brought to this room- no one is to come in or out until I return.”

The man nods. “Yes, master.”

I look down the hallway- seeing an outline of a familiar shadow. “If my sister tries to interfere- restrain her as well,” I order, walking in the direction of the shadow.

I leave the man before he can respond.  
His loyalty is not in question at the moment and I trust that he will do as I have told him.

Remus stands in a darkened hallway, glaring at me. Daring me to approach.

“Did you have something to do with this?” I ask, hating her very gall to be in my presence at this moment.

“No.” She says. “But I’m glad someone did.”

I watch my twin’s posture shift as she locks eyes with me- she straightens herself to her full height. Keeps her head lifted. She may be slinking around, but she’s trying to keep her sense of pride about her.

“It was about time that someone calls you out on your bullshit.” She adds after a long moment of tense silence.

“Charming.” I sneer. “You do know that if the woman is found guilty- she will be executed,” I say, though it is of little importance to either of us if this woman is spared or not. “Quickly and painfully. A show what will happen should others share in her stupidity.”

“As I assumed the perpetrator would be,” Remus says, stiffly.

I sense fear in her.  
Weakness.  
Something that can be very useful later on.

“Did you put her up to it?” I ask again. “If you were to admit your involvement instead of hiding behind your cowardice, I may make the wretches depart from the mortal coil somewhat easier.”

“I had nothing to do with it.” She restates. “But someone did. And I salute them. If you didn’t want your precious little prize to leave you- you should have treated him better.”

I feel a blinding anger sweep over me. “I will find him,” I snarl. “And I will rectify his ‘mistreatment’ promptly. Then I plan to correct the failures of every single living creature within my walls until perfect order is restored. YOU will take care to see that none of you or yours fall into the fray because I will not hesitate to eliminate any and everyone that I deem as even SLIGHTLY a threat and-“

“Your power, your ‘order’ must be_ very_ fragile if it all falls apart with the absence of a small child.” She says, smugly.

That blind hot anger cools in my chest- she doesn’t deserve my attention in that manner. “You do not understand the future that is to come with that boy. And it will come. It is predestined and he has no choice in the matter. What needs to be done will be done.”

“I’m sure your … passion on the subject has nothing to do with you not being able to stick your dick in something little and helpless.” She says, eyes full of malice.

“If you do not like what happens here, then leave.” I snarl.

“No.” She says. “Because if I go, there will be no one to put you in line. You are not ‘all-powerful’. You are not a ‘master’. You are a sick, perverted, and demented individual. And it will lead you to your demise. And I want to be here to watch.”

I glare down at her. There is no reason to waste any more time on her stupid prattling. We stand in silence for a long moment before I state, calmly, “If I find that you are turning my people against me- I will not hesitate to end you, you worthless cunt.”

“End me?” She scoffs.

“End you. Take your idiotic head from your idiotic body and separate the two by several continents. No one is above my wrath. No one is above my law. And YOU will submit or you will die. ”

“You’re going to make me submit?” She snarls. “ME?? Submit?? to YOU???” Remus steps closer to me- until we are chest to chest and face to face. “You don’t have the strength.” She hisses before she spits in my face and turns on her heel- leaving me in the hallway.

I wipe the offending bodily fluid from my face - glaring through the space she’s put between us.

….That woman needs to be dealt with. Violently and painfully- her punishment crafted with only her in mind.

And she will be. Just like all the others.  
_Soon._

Very, _very_ soon.

However, first, I find the boy. Then, I deal with the traitorous snake.  
After these two matters are handled, I will go about assuring my hold over my house. Adjusting and correcting to fit this new era of control.  
And eventually, I will get to Remus.

Saving her for last will be so rewarding in the end. Patience does pay off in these sorts of situations.

I don’t want to backtrack- there’s little point in it- So I use the side entrance to move into the courtyard again- now emptied.

The rain has stopped- though the wind still carries the endless scents of every living being within a large radius of the compound.  
One scent of which belongs to our little runaway. It’s distant. And faint.

The little fool doesn’t know how to hide his tracks.  
Not from me- the man who taught him.

I move to the gate- glancing at the men who are supposedly responsible for guarding it.  
One of them bows at the waist as I pass by.

I’m annoyed and angered that they let the boy get past them. They have failed.

I turn back and slash the man closest to me with a single claw- watching his head topple to the ground beside his body. “Get rid of this corpse,” I growl to his partner. “Quickly while I still find you of use.”

The man nods, scrambling to dispose of his now lifeless friend- who I know in actuality is his brother. Insult to injury- I believe. Employing families is so, so very useful. It’s always a very dramatic twist of the knife.

While I find no humor in most drama- riding the staff of their loved ones in front of them has a certain… draw to it. The reactions and grief that come with that particular punishment is something I take great joy in.

Stepping into the woods, I hear almost every animal go completely silent as I move through their space.

Prey. Hiding in the presence of a predator.

These thoughtless beasts are more intelligent than half of the idiots I’ve just left behind me.

I can sense the child’s trail becoming more and more easy to follow.  
Upon arriving at the nearest town, I don’t know whether I’m more angry or disappointed.

The little idiots stopped running _embarrassingly_ close to the compound.  
Very much within a very short chase.

The town is quiet. Poor.  
Disgusting.

The scent leads to a small dwelling. Hardly large enough to be a ‘hotel’ but too large to be an ‘inn’. The _stupidity_ of the child is astounding.

I track him to a single room, turning the handle and finding it slightly humorous that he thought to lock it. As if that could stop me.

With a hard shove- I force the door open- bouncing it off the wall by the doorway.  
The little creature sits up in bed- shocked.

I glance around the darkened room, letting him marinate in his fear. “So this is where you’ve decided to trade your warm bed for, hmm?”

The boy grasps the blankets in his hands- eyes wide.

“Mas-”

“Be quiet.” I snarl, walking over to his bed.

He starts to try and stand, fumbling around in his confusion and fear.

“Don’t rise on my account,” I say snidely. “It’s very late after all. And I suppose you’ve paid well for this room. I’d hate for you not to get your money’s worth.” I pause for a moment. “Or should I say, _my_ money’s worth.”

He bows his head while as much as he can. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“Sorry? Why on earth would you be sorry?” I mock. “You’ve just brought us to your next very, very, _important_ lesson.”

I can see the fear rush through him.

“The nanny’s being disposed of,” I tell him. “Permanently.”

He lets out the smallest of gasps.

“I was going to enact it myself before sunrise… however… upon seeing that you paid someone for this lovely room, I think we’ll delay her execution. After all, if you pay for something, I always believe that you should get exactly what you paid for.”

The child is trembling in front of me.

“I can’t help but think that my request for your presence tonight has spurred this. You refuse to submit to me. After everything I have done for you.”

“I’m sorry.” He says, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You.. didn’t mean to?” I chuckle. “You ran all this way through the rain and mud, found this shithole, paid for a room, and now you say .. that you didn’t mean to.”

“I was scared.” He whispers.

“You do not know fear,” I say, bemused. “But, I will show you. And you will learn why submission is far better than obstinance.”

I force him to stare at me by raising his chin with a claw.  
“Lay back.”

\------------------------------------

A child’s screams are a very … unique thing to hear.  
There’s a certain melody they hold.

Standing over the blood-soaked bedding and hearing the little brat whine and sniff makes me feel a joy that is hard to top.

There is little to say about the boy’s sexual prowess. He’s learning very quickly but in that regard, even adults with centuries of practice and experience can also still be learning. But his emotional responses of grief and pain are encouraging.

He’s facing away from me- rolled onto his side in a small little ball.

“Get dressed.” I snarl impatiently. “We have a traitor to deal with.”

Walking outside of the room, I notice that serval others are staring at the room I’ve just left. The door was off the entirety of the night, I suppose they’ve heard everything.

Noting the location and knowing that I have ties here, I find and knock on the door of a very old ‘friend’. The man who answers is old and weak, he drops to his knees when he sees me. “Master.”

“Get up,” I growl, watching him as he does. “I want this establishment burned to the ground,” I order. “And any guest who is present at this time or anytime last night hunted down and gutted. And I want it done before noon.”

“Yes, master.” He says, eyes down and voice soft.

“Do not fail me,” I say in parting, going back to the boy who’s just now exited the room.

He stares up at me- blood still on his cheek and eyes still red from tears.  
He takes his place at my side, his composure being completely subdued.

Starting our walk back to the compound in silence- I can hear his every pained exhale- no matter how small. And scent the blood he’s still covered in- even under the clothes.

“Did you learn your lesson, Daken?” I ask when we reach the midway point.

“Yes, master.” He whispers.

“And what was it?”

“Obey.” He says.

“No boy,” I say, letting my disapproval be heard.

“I-”

“That may have been a bullet point, but it was not the lesson.” I pause for a long moment. “The lesson was to submit- always. Even when it’s painful or unpleasant. Do you understand?”

He nods quickly.

“Good.” I glance down at him. “I'm glad you understand… because I have an exercise to test that just how firmly you understand your lesson.”

With everything kept in mind- my next order may seem cruel and unusual.  
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the pain and destruction that will come from it, however.   
And to myself- I never lie. 


End file.
